The Puppet with the Painted Face
by Mad MOAI
Summary: Part of NaNoWriMo 2011 - Vocifer ends up on the streets in a snowstorm on the way to visit her cousins, and eventually ends up teaching a mysterious family's butler what it really means to be human.
1. Prologue

Darkness was the main focus.

There was not a natural light in sight – the sun had either set completely behind the desolate, crowded horizon, or the fog of the distant skirmish had clouded the entire sky over. Hopefully it was the former; she always had liked the cold, welcoming darkness, broken only by the tiny sparkle of a candle.

Vocifer Manchester was only a teenage girl, and yet she lived in a world of darkness. She knew the light of the candelabras that graced her relatively small home, and of the sun, but the repetitive, distant banging that proceeded throughout the day constantly filled her ears, and she had practically forgotten what true silence was. The girl lived in a small town quite a distance from London, England. The first world war had just recently begun, and so far she kept her parents, but that might soon change.

Honestly, she hoped nobody would leave her life that soon, but hoping rarely did anything, so she tried not to think about it much.

A tiny fire shined in the distant corner of the room. Vocifer was staring out of the black, transparent window, into the burnt and blue night sky. Few stars twinkled tonight; the heavens were rent with silvery clouds, although she couldn't be sure that they weren't really smoke. Nowadays she didn't bother to distinguish between the two –they were so similar, anyway, so why was there a difference in the first place?

She watched the smoky clouds slowly army-crawl across the sky, occasionally glancing down at her and giving an irritable flash of a temporarily revealed star. This was rare, however. As always, the only vague, golden light came from the candle on the other side of her room.

Vocifer let her neck relax, and she rested her chin on the back of the armchair. She enjoyed watching the night sky, but she had stayed up so late already, and her eyelids were beginning to droop. She really did not want to go to bed, but it was about time that she did, anyway. Surely it was at least ten at night by now.

Now that she was aware that she was sleepy, it was impossible to ignore the creeping slumber. Giving a near-silent yawn, she slithered off of the armchair and strolled mechanically to the other side of the room. When she reached the opposite corner she gently blew out the candle, bathing the area in black once more.

She didn't mind the dark much, but it was still frustrating that she couldn't find her bed. Still, she eventually found a soft, rectangular lump that was positioned against the wall, and collapsed onto it.

It was comfortable to lie here on her back, but she still didn't fall asleep. Though the repetitive banging in the distance had stopped for the night already, it echoed in her head, and she only slept for somewhere around half of the night.

The next morning then changed her life. For a while, at least.


	2. Chapter 1

She thought the banging was noisy, but this was worst. Or it would be if it went on all day. For now, it would only last a couple of hours.

People chattered softly everywhere in the seats. It was so consuming and yet so quiet that nobody could hear what anyone else was saying. That was good for Vocifer; she hated eavesdropping, even if it was by accident.

She paused in the threshold, wide-eyed, scanning the train station. She had never taken a train before. Briefly she wondered whether it would be any fun, but then she told herself that it was only a single train ride to London, and then it was a short horse-cart ride to her cousins' house. What could go wrong? Well, the train could crash, but that was highly unlikely.

Citizens mulled around and spoke small talk with each other. Muffled by this, the faraway train whistles shouted through the murmurs, unable to tell whether they were near or far. Perhaps that was a good thing.

Vocifer glanced sideways. Her cousin Nophis had met her in front of the train station and had not hesitated to ebulliently usher her in. At least she wasn't screaming.

"I think you'll have fun while you're at our place," Nophis said cheerfully, offering a little smile. "It's not the biggest house ever, but it is in London, and there are a lot of things to do there. You can't imagine all the fun we'll have!"

Vocifer was slightly doubtful, but if Nophis insisted, it had to be good. She smiled back. "You can tell me all about it when we get there. I'll try not to be a stick in the mud."

Nophis looked a taken aback. "You _won't_ be a 'stick in the mud,' Vocifer! You're not one of those grumps who skulk around in the street all the time."

"I guess I'm not."

Vocifer still scanned the gigantic crowd with mild interest. All shapes and sizes and sorts of people were visible here, though she didn't pay attention to anybody in particular. For the most part she focused on reaching the terminal and then waiting for her train in a non-chaotic way. She didn't want to add to the only-increasing volume; it bothered her ears already as it was.

The line was relatively short, but it was still a line. Vocifer stood with her hands behind her back, clutching her suitcase in one of them, moving her feet in relatively random directions. The monotony hurt her brain, and so she started to speak. She turned her gaze to her cousin and asked, "What should I look forward to the most?"

"Hmm." Nophis seemed to think overdramatically, but she answered quickly. "I'm not sure. There are lots of things to do here in London. But at least you'll be away from all that noise back at your house, right? I can't imagine how loud it must be, sleeping with the gunshots and all…"

Vocifer didn't reply. Perhaps that hadn't been the right question – it wasn't her fault that her dad had got sent to the military without warning, and it wasn't her fault that it would be too lonely if she stayed at her own house for too long. Well, perhaps that _was_ her fault. All she did was stare at the sky, anyway. She used to enjoy stepping out for some fresh air, but now that the war had started and the season was transitioning into winter, she was just about forced to stay in her house all day. It was a bit depressing, really. At least she would have lots of things to keep her occupied at her cousins' house. Supposedly, London was a big city. She doubted that she would be able to stop wondering what it must be like until she got there.

Finally the line spilled apart ahead of the two, and Vocifer was able to show her ticket and follow the normal procedure for such a thing. Nophis had purchased a round-trip journey in order to meet Vocifer here at the station; she had little to worry about. She hadn't even packed anything – who needed to pack things when she would only be staying here for an hour or two at most?

The two of them waited for a while, Vocifer pondering when the train might get here. She couldn't think of any more interesting questions to ask about London; "what is it like" was a too vague thing to ask. Perhaps "how big is it" would work, but surely the answer to that was "huge." London was notorious for being gargantuan, at least compared to some of the other places surrounding it.

And so the two sat in somewhat quiet conditions, speaking to each other when they felt the need to break the silence. It was never truly silent in the train station, though. Everyone else was constantly talking about something, even something meaningless. That was all right. Vocifer hadn't heard true silence for a while, anyway. She didn't need to experience silence.

Finally the whistling of the train wheels approached from outside, and the surrounded people started to shuffle around. Nophis immediately rose to her feet, declaring instantly, "The train is here."

_I already know that,_ Vocifer commented inwardly, though she didn't speak it aloud. She wasn't much of the type to make snotty remarks. Occasionally her brain would just say things she really didn't mean. Instead, she voiced it more pleasantly: "It is."

"Do you need help carrying something?" Nophis asked worriedly.

Vocifer shook her long black hair. "No thanks, I'm all right."

"If you say so."

Vocifer rose to her feet and pulled her suitcase along behind her, striding onto the opening train. She had never ridden a train before, and so she was needlessly excited. The thing was huge, bigger than (her mind thought) a hundred horses lined up head-to-tail with no space in between. She was probably exaggerating its size in her enthusiasm, but she didn't admit this to herself. Why ruin the mood? She liked being happy for once. Normally, back at her own house, she was just bored or thoughtful. She never really had anything exciting to experience.

She stared at the step on the train for a while, but Nophis's nudge from behind prompted her to actually board.

Now she had stepped onto a train for the first time in the sixteen-or-so years of her life. Somehow she couldn't help jumping a couple of inches into the air. It was the most exciting thing that had happened to her for quite a while.

Soon, though, she calmed down, tugging her suitcase along behind her as she wandered the aisle of the train. She was sure that she had to be in this car; Nophis confirmed it. But from here she had no idea where to go.

Vocifer turned her light eyes on Nophis. "Maybe you should lead. I have no clue where we're going."

"No problem," her cousin replied cheerfully, practically skipping ahead. She led Vocifer to the front edge of the train car, promptly sitting herself down by the window.

Vocifer hesitated, but at Nophis's quiet request, she seated herself on the opposite side of the golden-brown table, also adjacent to the window. Doubtless the window view would keep her entertained throughout the trip.

And then more waiting came. Other passengers shuffled by, but Vocifer didn't look at them. Just in case one glared back. She didn't appreciate the idea of being glared at when all she did was let her eyes wander. That was why she kept her line of sight under control.

At last the aisle emptied out, and the only filled spots on the train were in the seats. Vocifer relaxed and scanned the outside of the window. So far nothing terribly interesting was going on out there, but that would soon change.

It wasn't long before the outside world started cowering behind the train. That was how it appeared, anyway. In actuality Vocifer knew the train was moving, but sometimes she liked to imagine that the world was really falling away from its successors.

The train ride was fairly uneventful. Vocifer spoke with Nophis more, inquiring about London. Even so, she didn't learn much more other than "it's big," "there are a lot of buildings," and "there are a lot of things to do." Vocifer soon got tired of the inquiry, and so she told her cousin that perhaps making it a surprise would make it even more exciting. Nophis agreed with much enthusiasm, although she did add on that "it can be dangerous there sometimes, so never go outside alone." This made Vocifer quite a bit more nervous. Even so, she acknowledged the warning, and reminded herself not to run any errands or go exploring without Nophis at her side.

It wasn't long after that before the train slowed to a stop, hesitantly, like a slug. As soon as it did, Vocifer suddenly became alert again. Was it really over already? She almost stood up, but halted at the last second, and instead her eyes flicked to the window. Outside, white flakes were already falling in this land, as gently as possible. It was just about winter – London must just be a cold place. At this point there was a white layer of snow on the ground outside the train station. Vocifer had never really paid attention to the snow until now, but surely it would be cold outside. Hopefully Nophis had something warm to wear. Vocifer had already packed toasty clothes, and surely her cousin kept something at her house. If she lived in London, she would most likely be smart enough to have a snow jacket. Nophis wasn't dumb.

Soon the aisle cleared, and Vocifer shuffled out of the train with her suitcase and her cousin behind her. The air outside was instantly biting cold. Vocifer hadn't thought to put her jacket on before she stepped out – she had been too focused on leaving the train at all.

She stepped aside, out of the flow of people, and dug her warm coat out of her suitcase. It had a fluffy collar and was a dark blue, almost grayish color. Doubtless this would keep her comfortable until she reached her cousins' house.

As soon as she had pulled herself into the coat, she closed her suitcase again. Nophis led her outside the station and back into the frosty winter air.

The moment Nophis was outside, she appeared quite excited about something. Vocifer caught up to her cousin, strolling back into the gentle snow. The moment she did so, Nophis gave an excited cry. "They've already brought the car, isn't that nice? We don't have to wait!"

Vocifer looked at the huge object in front of her. It looked like a miniature train car on wooden wheels, pulled by a duo of horses. She hadn't seen many of these before, but now she was actually going to be in one. She asked herself what it might be like. _I guess I'll figure it out once I get in._

Nophis beat her to it. She jumped hastily into the car, scooting over to the other window. She smiled out at Vocifer. "Come on in! There's nothing to worry about!"

Vocifer nodded hesitantly. She wasn't worried – it was just that she had never been in one of these before. Without further waiting, she hopped inside, seating herself on the opposite end.

"This is how we're getting to your house?" Vocifer asked, adjusting her position slightly. She wasn't quite used to sitting in this car thing yet.

"It sure is!" Nophis replied with a grin. "It'll only take ten minutes or so."

Vocifer nodded. The door had closed, and now the bluish-white outside was moving again. Still the snow was falling, and Vocifer watched it fixedly. She wondered whether it would affect how she viewed London.

"Do you think I can come back in the summer?" she asked, turning her gaze back to Nophis.

"Of course! I'd enjoy that. But only if you would, too."

Vocifer nodded silently.

For about a minute the horse-car continued along the icy street.

"It shouldn't take long to get there," Nophis said absently, staring out of the opposite window.

Vocifer didn't respond. She was completely silent.

Then she felt a large amount of movement.

The car went around a turn quite speedily. Vocifer noticed the jerking motion, and cried out; on her seat, she lost her balance, and crumpled to the floor.

She covered her eyes with her hands and hoped the world's spinning would stop. The world didn't listen; everything still collapsed around her. Something smacked her head. Nophis called her name. The world spun and spun, and she kept her eyes close until it stopped. Squinting in the darkness until the world was stable once more.

The next thing she was aware of was that, though they weren't whirling around anymore, her surroundings were cold and icy and wet. She was grateful that she had her warm coat, but it couldn't prevent the icy water from seeping into it.

_Why am I getting wet?_

Vocifer opened her eyes. Everything around her was white. She lifted her head; now it was grey. She looked around. The ground was covered in snow, and the clouds were dumping more onto the city. A sidewalk rose up from either side, and the buildings sat, desolate and grey.

She was in the middle of the street, and the street was empty.

Immediately she rose to her feet, brushing the ice from herself. The street was empty. Nobody moved around, even in the buildings.

Vocifer started to look around and call for help, but her hip stung where it had made contact with the ground, and her arm was sore as well.

_Did I… fall out?_

That was the way it was. Icy streets were no place for a speeding cart, and now it had fled without her, and she was alone. She had no idea where she was, or where she should go to reach her cousins' house. To make a long story short, she was lost. It was snowing. In a big city.

In London. Nophis had told her never to go out alone. And now she was alone, and she had nobody to help her not be alone.

Vocifer started to panic. How could this happen? Would Nophis come back for her, or would she be completely alone for a while? She would have to find somewhere to go. She couldn't stay out in the freezing cold, or someone might find her. It wasn't safe to stay in a cold street.

It was still morning, but that only made it colder. The clouds still covered the sky until it was nearly as dark as night. It didn't matter if it was the middle of the day; as long as snow was falling, it would be dark. There was no sign of the snow letting up anytime soon. For all she knew, she could freeze out here.

She had to start moving.

Trying her best to ignore her aching hip, Vocifer kept a steady jog to the other end of the street. Snow was falling. If she didn't keep moving, she was afraid she would freeze.

She didn't keep track of where she was going. She only kept moving and moving. Nobody seemed to be around. Was she asleep?

She stopped. If she was dreaming, this wasn't a problem. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in the cart. But if it was a dream, why did it seem so real? If she was dreaming, her hip wouldn't ache, and the world wouldn't be cold. There was no doubt that this was really happening, rare as the occasion may be.

Well, that dampened her spirits. Why did she think that? It wasn't going to help –

"Excuse me, are you lost?"

A voice from behind caught her attention. She whirled around, clutching the edges of her coat's hood. Now she was going to get attacked by a maniac. If only this really _was_ a dream.

Vocifer didn't reply.

"It's cold outside. Don't you think you should be inside?"

It wasn't the tallest figure around, but it was still intimidating. The figure wore a dark, black coat that screamed fanciness, and its boots of the same color crunched on the snow as it adjusted its pose. "Do you live around here?" it asked, tilting its hooded head slightly."

Vocifer scowled. "I don't. Now go away."

The figure hesitated. "That's a shame. Would you like somewhere to stay?"

"I'm not staying with a stranger."

"I never said that." The figure drew closer, and Vocifer flinched. "I'm not going to kidnap you, you know."

Vocifer tried to look courageous, her light-colored eyes shining with determination. "I don't know that. Now go away. I need to find my cousin's house."

Again the figure hesitated. "Are you sure? It's awfully cold out. It's only going to get worse, if you ask me."

Vocifer couldn't help but think this man was right. As if on cue, she gave a shiver. Snow was falling around the two lonely street people now, as it had been for a while, but it seemed even more threatening now that it had been acknowledged.

Vocifer's footprints disappeared from their place. The snow was falling too quickly to ignore five-minute-old footsteps.

"Perhaps you should come with me," the man offered once more. "I promise you won't regret it."

Vocifer kept her mouth clenched shut, though she still shivered a little.

The figure's face was shaded by the hood, but even so she could tell he frowned. "Well, if you refuse my invitation, that's fine, but at least you should help bring some firewood. If this keeps up we'll be stuck in the house for days."

"Firewood?" Vocifer echoed.

The figure nodded. "That's right. I can show you where the house is, but I won't make you go inside. I'd just ask you to get some firewood from the side shed and bring it inside. That's all."

"I don't see why not." Vocifer was still a little suspicious, but at least this guy didn't seem like he was threatening to kidnap her anymore.

"Very well. Then come with me."

Vocifer followed the man farther down the desolate street, dusted white with snow. After about thirty seconds, the man turned his hooded head towards her. "By the way, my name is Cornix. I'm pleased to meet you."

Vocifer didn't respond immediately. He had not taken his hood off. She didn't blame him, because it was quite chilly out, but it unnerved her a little. She couldn't see his face, and so she couldn't trust him. She kept her mouth shut.

Cornix paused. "I'd ask your name, but that can wait until we get to the house."

This calmed Vocifer down slightly. Even so, she refused to speak much.

Cornix led her over the snowy road. The flakes were still descending steadily; if anything, they would only get worst. Vocifer shivered - her jacket was wet from her fall. She didn't mention her hip at all. If she complained, she had a feeling that this Cornix man would turn on her. At this point, she still didn't believe that he was helping her all that much, but at least she wasn't alone in the street anymore. And Cornix didn't appear to be carrying any weapons. Not to mention the fact that he was only her height at most; if he wanted to wrestle, he would most likely lose.

The two moved at a strolling pace down the street. It was still completely empty. Though there were a few lights on in the surrounding houses, nobody emerged from them. Hopefully it wasn't because Cornix was intimidating. If that was true, then Vocifer had no doubt that he would be a criminal. But everyone was probably cooped up at home just because the day was cold. That would be why she hadn't seen anyone on the other streets, either. Winter was no time for traveling. _That is, unless your parents are gone and you can't stay home alone. In that case… I don't exactly have a choice._

The duo only walked for about another minute until the houses suddenly broke apart, and the road became a lonely white, dusted with snow. Now there was a large field, and perhaps a hundred yards down the path stood a house. It was quite tall, ornate, and well-kept. There were several trees surrounding it, although none of them were close enough to make it look like a suffocated place. The green was quite pleasing to Vocifer's eyes, even when it was tinged grey with snow and clouds. At the side of the house, there was a small extension with an overhanging roof on all three sides. Perhaps this was a place where the family kept some other things, like the firewood. Storing the firewood in an unused room was a decent way to keep it dry, Vocifer told herself. This family must be relatively smart to come up with that.

"This is where you live?" she blurted, admiring the neatly-kept mansion (at least on the outside).

"It is nice, isn't it?" Cornix said, almost absently. He began up the pathway to the house, and Vocifer followed quickly. There was no gate, so she didn't have to worry about being locked in, as long as she stayed outside the walls.

The two of them reached a fork in the pathway. The end going straight led to the front door, while another portion branched off to the side, presumably to the unused room sticking out from the other wall of the house.

Cornix pointed a white-gloved hand towards the detour. "If you go that way, you should eventually reach a stack of firewood. I'd appreciate it if you brought some inside; it is cold out here." Despite his looming presence, even he shivered. "Just bring it to the door and knock once you've handled it. Someone will come to pick it up."

Vocifer nodded slowly, immediately setting off down the side path. It was considerably narrower than the other, and it was surrounded by low, icy shrubs, but it was definitely walkable. At least she was wearing practical shoes.

She wove down the path, circling around the house until she reached the right wall, from which the unused room protruded. At this point the walkway forked again, with one branch leading to this room, and another continuing to circumnavigate the house. Instantly Vocifer turned onto the other path; she didn't want to intrude onto the property by straying from her task.

Vocifer's feet crunched the snow as she paused under the overhanging roof of the unused room. There was a window showing the inside of the room, but it was completely dark. From the looks of it there was only room for a few people to stand in there. It was impossible to tell what the interior might look like.

At her feet stood a pile of firewood, protected by the corner and the overhanging roof of the unused room. Almost no snowflakes reached this pile, and so it was almost perfectly dry. Hopefully it wouldn't be too heavy. It would be a disaster if she continuously dropped it into the snow while trying to reach the front door.

Brushing away her worries with a wave of her hand, she knelt down and scooped up a few of the logs onto her forearms. They weren't light, but they weren't unwieldy, either, and they had very few splinters, if any. Whoever had organized this had done a decent job at it. Vocifer experienced very little trouble weaving her way back down the path and towards the front door.

She was getting tired of carrying this wood, but she didn't complain. Without free hands, she was forced to knock on the door with one foot, though she did her best not to kick it from its hinges. Thankfully, the door stayed where it was, and the roof overhead prevented Vocifer from getting snowed on too much.

She waited for the door to open, and slowly it did. But it wasn't Cornix who responded to her knocking – it was someone else, someone considerably more out of the ordinary.

As soon as the door was open, the man's vivid purple eyes scanned her from head to toe. She was tempted to call him a boy – he had a very smooth, almost childish face. Around each eye he had some sort of heavy makeup, colored blue on the underside and a pale pink on the upper outside corners of his eyelids. On his right cheek was painted some sort of blue symbol that vaguely resembled a flower. This man had long, orange hair that framed his face, accompanied by a tall hat with a fluffy gray feather sticking out of one end. He wore a bright blue jacket, starkly contrasting the gray of the snow outside.

Vocifer stood still for a while, but she didn't notice until the man stepped aside, not moving his vivid purple eyes from her. At this point Vocifer blinked, and then shook her head. So this person was real – but he seemed so… surreal. Not real. Something fabricated.

"Are you coming inside?" the man asked. He titled his head vaguely to the side, as if to look at her from a slightly different angle.

Vocifer hadn't planned on getting inside the mansion. It was quite cold outside, and the snow would probably only get heavier, so it couldn't be too much of a problem. It wasn't as if it was possible to lock her in, anyway. Perhaps just for a moment.

Vocifer stepped into the mansion, and instantly she was enveloped in warmth and light. For a moment she forgot that she was carrying this little bit of firewood at all. It was a gigantic place on the inside, colored in various shades of grayish-blues. Even so, it didn't look all that desolate – perhaps it was because the white snow falling outside went with the cool tones.

She couldn't help but admire the whole thing by spinning in a semicircle. "This place is huge," she breathed, unconsciously walking further inside. As soon as she noticed her feet were moving, she turned around to face the one who had opened the door. "Where should I put this?"

The man gently closed the door and started towards a different room at the left side of the mansion. "This way."

Still a little reluctant, Vocifer followed slowly. Now she was closed inside a warm mansion. _Well, at least I'm not outside in the snow anymore._

The man opened a somewhat large door to another room. Like the main entrance, this one was also colored blue, and fortunately it was empty. Vocifer would hate to come across some random people and interrupt whatever they might be doing, whether it was relaxing or talking.

There was a fireplace on the back wall of the room, and it was empty apart from a few ashes scattered below a metal grate. Vocifer presumed that, since it was empty, it would need restocking. Without further instruction from the man in the blue jacket, she gently let the firewood into the fireplace and then scurried backwards. All right, she was done here. Now what? She still didn't know how to get to her cousins' house from here, or even where "here" was in the first place. She couldn't go outside in the snow again, or she would surely freeze. She didn't have any money or any of her things with her, so she couldn't find a hotel. So far this man hadn't tried to do anything out of the ordinary, and neither had Cornix. Could she stay in the house of a total stranger until Nophis came to find her, though? This was London. She had no clue what Cornix's intentions might be. At least the man in the red coat seemed innocuous enough. He was intentionally distancing himself from Vocifer, as though there was a red line constantly drawn around her that moved as she did, and it told everyone to stay away from her. She didn't take this as an insult, though; surely there was a reason behind it.

Vocifer shook herself off a little bit and started back towards the exit. Instantly the man in the blue jacket moved to the side again and held the door open, as if it was all he existed to do. This confused Vocifer. Were there really so many doors in this house that they needed one person to walk around opening them all the time? Maybe someone would explain it to her later.

As she left the room she took a glance out the window. She had expected it to be snowing, but the flakes were really coming down hard now, in a borderline blizzard. She was glad she had come inside when she did, or she would be a block of ice by now.

The problem was: could she stay here? Cornix seemed kind enough, but she couldn't read his mind.

_I have to stay here now. I can't go outside in this weather._

Momentarily, the man with the blue jacket wandered off to somewhere else. Vocifer turned her gaze back to the window. It was nice to watch the snow fall outside in the all-consuming grey, and it was nice to stay inside where it was relatively warm. She could tell that there was no fire going right now, but at least the mansion was bright and comfortably toasty. As long as she didn't get locked in, she would be fine. She had never been to London, but so far, Vocifer was fond of it.

In a few minutes she heard footsteps across the floor, and turned around. Cornix was approaching again, but this time he had his hood down. Despite his height, he was definitely an adult, with both dark hair and dark eyes. He was still wearing his entirely black outfit, and it went with the color of the mansion. Vocifer wondered if that was intentional.

"Thanks for bringing in the firewood," Cornix told her with a vague nod of his head. His dark eyes went to the window, and instantly he hurried over. Vocifer backed away.

"It's a snowstorm," Cornix muttered, turning away from the outside in a swirl of his black coat. "It looks like you won't be able to leave for a while. I apologize for that."

Vocifer didn't respond. He sounded sincere, but she was still a little on edge.

"You're not saying anything," Cornix commented, looking a bit concerned. "Is something wrong? Perhaps you need some tea…"

Vocifer shook her head quickly. "No, I don't need anything… I'm just confused. I honestly have no idea where I am right now, but I'm sure my cousin will find me."

Cornix looked contemplative. "Until you find your cousin, then you can stay here. It doesn't look like you have anything on you, other than your coat, and you can't go outside in this weather. You can leave when the storm lets up if you like."

She nodded quickly, somewhat startled by the request. "Thanks for your hospitality. I'd like that." She considered saying that she couldn't stay, but such a thing would be an outright lie. On the contrary, she couldn't go outside at all; it wasn't as if she had anywhere to go at the moment, so she would recuperate here for a while.

Cornix smiled. "I'm happy to help. I'll go let the others know we have a guest. Feel free to stay here, or you can look around a little bit." He started up the stairs in the center of the room, but paused for a moment after he ascended several steps. "Oh, but if a door's locked, don't enter the room. That's all."

Vocifer watched him leave. Nophis had told her not to go anywhere in London alone and that there were some strange people here, but apparently this man wasn't one of them. From what Vocifer could tell, he was relatively generous and caring, not a bad person at all. Still, she shouldn't let her guard down too much. She could never tell for sure what anyone's true motives were.

She turned back towards the room with the fireplace. She didn't want to start it without permission, but it would be an easy enough feat to wait until "the others" were here.

Who were "the others?" Vocifer had guessed that such a large house would have more than one person living in it, but she hadn't thought about what those people might be like. Hopefully Cornix wasn't the only outwardly nice one in the family. Vocifer didn't want to stay with a bunch of grumps in a snowstorm, or her temper might take a turn for the worse.

She waited in the threshold of the room for a short while. Within a few minutes someone she didn't recognize started down the stairs at the center of the room. This person was a young lady who couldn't have been older than Vocifer, and, like Cornix, she had dark hair and dark eyes. Contrasting his, though, she wore a casual, light grey dress tinged with blue. It looked as though this family preferred cool colors over anything, but even so this girl looked excited.

She reached the bottom step and finally looked up from the stairs. Her dark eyes instantly met with Vocifer's light ones, and in that moment the girl rushed over from the stairs and stopped a few feet from Vocifer.

"You must be our guest," she said, giving a hasty bow. "You can call me Tristis. I'm pleased to meet you."

Vocifer could instantly tell that this girl Tristis would never be able to sit still. At least she wasn't skulking around the house. Forcing a smile in response to Tristis, she responded, "My name is Vocifer. Thanks for giving me somewhere to stay while the snowstorm lets up."

Tristis looked up from her constantly adjusting feet. "It's no trouble. We haven't had any visitors on this end of the house this winter, at least not that Dad's told me about…"

Vocifer assumed that Tristis was Cornix's daughter, but something else about that sentence perplexed her. "What do you mean by 'this end of the house?' Does it make a difference whether someone comes in from the back door?"

Tristis smiled. "We have a puppet shop in the back of the manor. I think it looks quite nice, but I'm not sure how into that sort of thing you are."

Vocifer was still puzzled. "How do people get to the puppet shop if it's at the back of the manor?"

Now Tristis looked confused as well. "There's a road, of course… that's why we have a big lawn in the front. It gives the house some… breathing room." Her feet shuffled around again.

"Oh."

Another voice echoed down from the stairs. "Tristis, who are you talking to?"

A different woman, who Vocifer guessed was Tristis's mother, began descending the staircase. Vocifer thought it a little disturbing that everyone in this family had dark hair and dark eyes, but hey, that was genetics for her. She disregarded it.

"It's the guest," Tristis called up the stairs, and then she turned back to Vocifer. "That's Atricilla. She's a little bossy, but she means well."

Vocifer nodded slowly. Hopefully that was the last of the people here; she probably couldn't stand to meet anyone else today.

"It's nice of you guys to give me somewhere to stay," she said carefully, knowing that she had already stated such a thing several times. "I'm just glad I'm not stuck outside in that snowstorm."

Tristis frowned. "Me too." She turned her head towards the other room. "Do we have anymore firewood?"

"I got some more."

She looked back towards Vocifer, smiling. "That was nice of you. Now we have something to thank you for, too."

"It was no problem," Vocifer insisted.

That was all she could say before Atricilla approached the two with a somewhat suspicious and curious look on her face. Immediately she asked, "Is this our guest?"

"I am. My name is Vocifer. I'm pleased to meet you, Atricilla."

She appeared as though she would speak again, but she was interrupted by more footsteps down the staircase.

"It looks like everyone's here," Cornix declared, swiftly crossing the room. He stepped in front of the door that led to the fireplace-room and turned back towards our little gathered group with almost a playful glint in his eyes. "We shouldn't just stand around here, though. Shall we go get ourselves warm?"

As expected, Tristis jumped a couple of inches into the air. "That sounds delightful!" She looked as though she would barrel into the room and take down Cornix with her, disregarding the fact that that would slow down progress to the fireplace. No use entering the room if the one to make it warm wasn't here.

Atricilla stepped forward and interrupted whatever fantasies Tristis may have been concocting. "Would our guest care for some tea?"

Vocifer blinked; she hadn't expected the question. "Yes, please."

"I'll be sure to get it as soon as possible, then."

So far, Atricilla was nothing but confusing. Vocifer didn't move, even when Cornix opened the door to the other room and Tristis went inside. Briefly, Tristis turned around and looked at Vocifer expectantly.

Once more, Atricilla opened her mouth to say something, and once more something else cut her off. Tristis asked from the doorway, "Vocifer, are you coming?"

Blinking some more, she turned and headed into the room. "Yes, I guess I'm just a bit tired. I can't make sense of any of this at all."

"You can get some rest in here, then. You must be cold."

"I think I am, actually."

Vocifer scanned the room for somewhere suitable to sit. She hesitated, but Tristis nudged her, and so she took her place on the chair nearest to the door. Truthfully it was soft and comfortable, but she forced herself not to say anything. She didn't want to look like an idiot in front of a group of hospitable strangers.

The other three took their places in various spots around the room. One thing that puzzled Vocifer was that the room was relatively small, especially when she visually compared it to the first room in the mansion. Perhaps the meager size just gave it a more cozy, close feeling. It definitely made it warmer because all the people were close together.

Cornix didn't hesitate to light the fireplace. As he did so, Vocifer glanced out the window. Snow was still falling heavily, and once again, she was glad she wasn't stuck outside in that weather. This family was treating her very kindly, and she was still grateful, even though she had probably already thanked them at least five times. So she stayed silent.

She didn't notice Tristis had taken a seat close to her until the dark-eyed girl started bouncing up and down, albeit vaguely. "Thanks again for getting the firewood. If it wasn't for you we would be sitting here in a cold room!"

"You're welcome," Vocifer mumbled. She wasn't used to being praised this much, and it was hard for her to continue responding politely.

The room was silent. Vocifer kept her eyes on the floor, but when she noticed she was doing this, she straightened herself. She didn't want to look like she wasn't glad to be here.

Tristis looked like she was about to ask a question when the door opened again. Startled, Vocifer turned her head in that direction. The man with the blue jacket from earlier was standing there. The instant Vocifer's eyes landed on him, he gave a small bow, as if he knew that she was watching him and he wanted to acknowledge it.

"Oh, perfect timing," Cornix piped up, before anyone else could intercede. "Would you fetch us some tea, please?"

"Absolutely." Without a further word, the man in the blue jacket was gone again, and Vocifer wondered if the encounter had ever really happened.

She turned to Tristis. "Who's that? I've seen him around a couple of times now."

Tristis tilted her head, and answered in a casual tone. "Oh, Drossel? He's our butler."

Vocifer blinked. "I feel like an idiot for asking, but what's a butler?"

"Uh…" It was clear that it was the last question Tristis ever expected to hear. For a few seconds she looked blank, as though she were searching for a decent answer, and then replied, "I don't know how to explain it that well, but he's like the person who does things for us, but we treat him like a friend…"

Vocifer vaguely grasped the meaning of the term. "All right…"

Nobody said anything for about a minute, and then Tristis piped up again. "Where do you come from, anyway? You're obviously not from around here."

Vocifer shook her head slowly. "I'm not. I'm from farther north, a little bit of a train ride from here. My house isn't all that big, especially compared to this one." She gazed at the ceiling, just to check how high it was. Definitely higher than her own ceiling back at home.

"Oh. What's it like there?"

Vocifer returned her eyes to her chair. "It's sort of quiet, and peaceful… at least until recently. Some war or something is going on up there now. I haven't heard much about it, but at least it seems nice down here."

Tristis nodded understandingly. Obviously she couldn't think of a response, so she stared out the window. "The snow is just merciless, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

The sky outside was already darkening slightly; either it was getting late, or the clouds were getting thicker. It could be both, but then the outside would be completely black right now. Presently it was grey.

Vocifer's thoughts were broken by the door opening again. The man with the blue jacket – Drossel was his name, she told herself – had returned, this time with a tray of teacups. The orange firelight in the room reflected across his face, and Vocifer shivered. Something about him was a bit odd, but at the same time he was horrendously normal. She couldn't put her finger on what it might be that gave him such a strange presence. For now, she would ignore it.

She wasn't surprised when he approached her first – she _was_ the guest, after all, and somehow he seemed to know that even though nobody had told him. _Maybe Cornix did when he first left._

Vocifer felt very small sitting down. The room was dark, apart from the warm firelight, and it made her feel somehow vulnerable when she was in front of someone with such an imposing presence. She was unconsciously staring up at Drossel with her mouth open, although she soon realized this and shut her jaw.

He must have known that she was being intimidated, because after she was conscious of her staring he sank to one knee. Now he was at about eye level, and Vocifer wasn't quite as frightened. In fact, the firelight felt just a little warmer. Perhaps it was just her.

She responded slowly by choosing a random cup from the set, and all she could utter was a little noise. She had never been handed something like this before. In addition, Drossel was looking up at her expectantly. Though his expression was relatively calm and unreadable, his vivid purple eyes had a certain warmth to them that brought heat to Vocifer's face. She had never been examined so intently before, either. This house was just full of surprises.

She was gaping again, and it took her a minute to notice. When she did, her mouth automatically shut once more. By this time Drossel had risen back to his feet and transitioned to Tristis. This girl took her tea far more readily, and added on quietly, "She's a little shy."

Drossel nodded knowingly and crossed the small room to the other two members of the family.

"What are you staring for? There's no need to be timid."

Tristis's speaking made Vocifer look up from her tea – once again, something she was doing unconsciously. "Staring at what?"

"He's not going to attack you or anything. He's a _butler._" Despite the words, Tristis's tone was playful, not accusing.

"Sorry. I guess… I've just never met a butler before." Vocifer smiled. "I didn't mean to insult him or anything."

"Drossel is fine." Tristis was bouncing up again. "I'm sure he knows that the new girl won't warm up to him immediately. He's far from being an idiot."

"I guess so."

The room was silent again. Outside the two windows, the precipitation was not letting up, though the fire was still burning strong and bright with no traces of weakness. Vocifer's eyes were flying around the room, trying to find something to focus on.

_Concentrate on something,_ she told herself, recalling that she was holding a teacup. She glanced down at it. Was she supposed to drink it now? Across the room, Cornix was doing so. She concluded that it was all right, and swallowed some. For a drink she hadn't tasted in a while, it was delicious.

Drossel began to leave the room. His eyes lingered on the window for a second, and then he glanced back towards Vocifer. At this Vocifer looked up at him, too. As soon as she could move, though, the butler left the room.

Vocifer blinked. She still didn't know what was off about this place, but at least she was warm. For now, she disregarded it.

Once more, nobody spoke. Her eyes went back to Tristis; so far, the dark-eyed girl was the most welcoming of the four who lived here. She was bubbly and relatively talkative, and she had the least ominous presence in the quartet. Vocifer waited for her to say something, but Tristis only shrugged.

_At least I'm not as tired as I was before._

She kept her eyes on the fire, occasionally swallowing some of the delicious tea. Eventually, though, it got too bright for her, and she glanced away. She checked the door again. Somehow, as she did so, Drossel knew the perfect time to reenter the room empty-handed, and Vocifer flinched away slightly. Somehow she couldn't witness the butler move without balking, but she didn't know why. Perhaps she just wasn't familiar enough with the concept of butlers – that was all. She just came from a house that was too small. She wasn't used to being in London.

Still, she watched Drossel for a couple of seconds more. He looked as though he was waiting for something, but he never said anything. After a moment he glanced down at Vocifer, who, flustered, turned her eyes back to the floor. _It's impolite to stare, you idiot,_ she rebuked herself.

The fire proceeded to crackle in its place, and the snow outside was still falling in a borderline blizzard. Vocifer wondered how it was possible for so much precipitation to fall in such a short amount of time. Then again, occasionally she wondered how anything in London was possible. Perhaps there would be a noticeable lack of precipitation tomorrow to make up for it.

Tristis's voice interrupted her reverie again. "Are you enjoying your stay? It looks like something's bothering you."

Vocifer shook her head. "I'm just not used to being in London. I'm grateful you're letting me stay here, and it's quite comfortable – it's just that I haven't been in a place like this before. Excuse me if I act a little strange."

Tristis nodded slowly. She didn't respond, though. And for a time, the room was still and silent, apart form the snow outside and the fire inside.


	3. Chapter 2

An increasing amount of light woke Vocifer from her sleep. Initially she didn't panic; her surroundings were warm, and the environment outside her eyelids was bright with a grey-white light. But then she recalled that she wasn't home. Home was never this warm.

She moved her eyes from the ceiling and to her surroundings. The sight of something so unfamiliar made her tense, but as soon as she remembered her situation, she relaxed. That was right… this family had taken her off the street to help her, and they had given her hospitality. It was fortunate that she hadn't had to sleep in the snow all night; evidently she would have frozen solid.

After having a pleasant serving of tea in a cozy parlor, Vocifer recalled, the man named Cornix had shown her to an unused bedroom somewhere on one of the higher floors of the mansion. It was fortunate enough that she had even found this place, but the fact that they had a spare bedroom was even luckier. Then again, she reminded herself, people in big mansions like this probably got a lot of visitors. It was nothing over which to get excited.

She slowly nudged the covers off herself. It was cold in here. Perhaps she shouldn't have done that. At least she was awake now… sort of. She could stand for the room to be ten degrees warmer, but she told herself not to complain. She wasn't outside, so she had nothing to worry about.

Almost entirely alert now, she swung her weight onto the floor and rose to her feet. The floor wasn't noticeably cold (probably because there was a rug on it). That was good.

She hadn't bothered to change clothes before she went to bed, but it didn't make much of a difference. She didn't have anything else to wear, anyway; all of her things had been in the carriage before she fell out.

Recalling the event made her heart sink a little. Instead of visiting her cousins, she was stuck in a house full of strangers. Even so, going out and searching for one house out of a million would surely get her lost, and it was still cold. _Is it?_

Suddenly struck by curiosity, she found the nearest window to her bed and gazed out. The morning light was already enveloping the outside. A gray mist still shrouded the buildings, streets and grass, leftover from last night's storm, and a thick layering of snow smoothed the ground into rolling white hills up until the buildings interrupted the roads. Honestly, the gray world outside was satisfyingly peaceful. It let Vocifer forget her troubles as she watched the unmoving landscape, and she rested her head on the windowsill. Maybe staying here wasn't a disaster. She might as well look on the bright side, or she'd never have fun. So far, nobody had tried to kill her. Hopefully it would stay that way.

Her spirits sufficiently buoyed, Vocifer rose from the windowsill and started for the door. Judging by the light outside, it couldn't be horrendously early. This convinced her that she didn't have to worry about waking the others up. Then they wouldn't want her to stay here anymore.

Before anything else, she descended the stairs. She wasn't sure why she did this; maybe she was just more comfortable with not being on an upper floor earlier in the morning. Either that, or she wasn't as familiar with the upper floor, and so she didn't want to hang around until someone showed her. Perhaps she could ask once the others were awake.

Not that she had to wait that long.

She watched the snowy-white world outside until footsteps on the floor made her turn her head. Tristis was approaching, wearing a fresh new outfit. It wasn't irritatingly bright, but Vocifer didn't say anything about it. At least it wasn't black.

"Good morning," Tristis called, hurrying over to the window. Evidently she was eager to speak with someone.

Vocifer wondered if Tristis's parents were still asleep. "Good morning," she responded, straightening herself.

"Did you sleep well?"

Vocifer nodded. "It was warm and comfortable in that room." She paused shortly, contemplating what to say. "I know I've already told you this a hundred times, but thanks for giving me somewhere to stay until I can get contact with someone I know. I'm sorry if I'm an inconvenience."

Tristis was clearly taken aback. "What do you mean 'inconvenience?' If anything, you're making this place a lot brighter! I'm sure Drossel's glad to have an extra visitor to fuss over. I think he secretly likes meeting new people."

Vocifer couldn't help but smile. "Are you gossiping about your… butler?"

"No, it's just what I think." Tristis stumbled over her words. "You can forget I said anything."

"All right."

Vocifer turned her gaze back to the large window, prompting the other to follow suit. "It's pretty outside," Tristis muttered. "And since it's not snowing, maybe we can go out and do something today. If you don't mind your feet getting a little cold; it looks like there's more snow on the ground than there will ever be in the air."

"How deep do you think it is?" Vocifer asked.

"At least a few inches, definitely. That was quite the storm we had last night."

At that, both of them stopped talking. It seemed as though Tristis always had a topic prepared in her mind before a conversation, but it never lasted more than a few sentences. Fortunately, Vocifer had more questions in mind. "Do you get snowstorms like that very often?"

Tristis shook her head. "No, the last one I remember was a few years ago. They're not completely out-of-this-world, though. Our climate here is notorious for being relatively wet."

Tristis paused to think of something else to say. "Do _you_ ever get storms back where you live?"

"Not really. It's mostly just rain."

Silence again. Tristis thought that silence was infinitely boring, but it was worse to talk about something she wasn't interested in. It made her volubility a little bit short-lived sometimes.

"Are you hungry?" she inquired, stepping back from the windowsill.

Vocifer looked up, returning her weight to her feet. "Only a little. Why, did you have something in mind?"

Tristis shrugged. "Not really. I was just wondering."

Vocifer didn't respond. Her gaze returned to the outside. "I wonder how cold it is. Definitely below freezing point, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't go out there without a good jacket like yours."

Vocifer glanced down at her jacket. Perhaps the reason Tristis was jumping around so much was because she was chilly. "Well, I _do_ have this coat, but I left everything else in the carriage before I fell out." As she spoke this aloud, she was suddenly aware of the dull ache in her hip where she had smacked it on the street yesterday.

Tristis's eyes widened. "You _fell out_? That's the danger of driving in the winter… was it fun?"

"Not really. I got dizzy."

"Oh."

Once again, their conversation slowed to a halt. Vocifer's mouth was getting tired, anyway. She scanned the mansion around her, still marveling at the way its blue tones went together without making the place look to melancholy. She spun in a circle, and then her eyes landed back on Tristis, a spot of black in a world of dark blues and grays. Vocifer wondered what had convinced the architects of the mansion to paint it such a color. She didn't bother asking, though; chances were Tristis didn't know the person who had built this place, and even if she did, that person would be too old to speak to about now.

"I wonder where Dad is," Tristis piped up, staring at the door. "I think he's awake. He must be somewhere else in the mansion."

Vocifer tried to recall yesterday's conversation by the fireplace. Tristis had told her a lot of things, and now she couldn't remember that many of them, except one. She had said something about a dollmaking shop in the back of the mansion, hadn't she? That was right.

"What time does the puppet shop open?" she inquired, her gaze already rotating back towards the stairs.

"Soon. We should get breakfast first, though, don't you think?"

Vocifer couldn't find a reason to disagree. Tristis led her to a different room on the bottom floor. In this room, Tristis spoke to another person living in the house Vocifer hadn't seen before. Maybe this man was one of those butlers. He didn't seem as ubiquitous as Drossel, though. Evidently Vocifer still had a lot to learn.

Shortly the unrecognized man brought the duo a delicious-looking breakfast consisting of foods Vocifer had only heard of before. Its aroma was even better than its appearance (which she found hard to believe). Still, something bothered her. She glanced at Tristis. "Aren't we going to eat with your parents?"

"They get up early," Tristis replied, already beginning to dig in, "so they've most likely already eaten by now."

Vocifer found this a bit strange, but she ate anyway. She fantasied about why Cornix and Atricilla would get up early, but didn't voice the question. She was loath to ruin a decent meal if Tristis was somehow sensitive about the subject.

Breakfast went slowly, mainly because Vocifer was being overly careful. She continuously glanced up and mimicked Tristis to avoid doing something she might consider rude, though she was furtive about this. Mainly she just used common sense and moved hesitantly to avoid knocking something over.

Even by the time the meal was over and the duo returned to the main room, the snow was still nicely on the ground and the sky hadn't brightened considerably. Vocifer was doubtful about whether any time passed at all. For that to be possible, though, this mansion would have to be frozen in one moment. As far as she knew, that was physically impossible. She didn't know much about physics, though, so she couldn't say for sure.

"If we go outside," Tristis said suddenly, "your hands are going to freeze off. We should get you some gloves today."

"You don't have to do that," Vocifer insisted, abashed.

"I'd like to, though," Tristis responded. "It's so fun to have visitors. We don't get a lot who come here to stay. Mom and Dad design buildings – people don't really have a reason to come over."

"Do they get up early to 'design buildings?'" Vocifer asked, oblivious to the transition in subject.

"Usually. They like to keep their minds fresh. It takes a lot of math to do what they do."

"I don't know a lot of math."

"It takes some art skill, too. Everyone in the Mandalay family was an artist, or so Dad told me. He even said that the first Mandalay in London designed this building and built it himself."

"That's impressive. I could probably never do something like that," Vocifer lamented.

Tristis didn't reply. Then the word "art" registered in Vocifer's head. "The puppet shop… who makes those? Is Atricilla a puppet artist, too?"

Tristis appeared to think for a moment. After the pause, she smiled playfully. "That's a surprise. You'll see when we get there."

Vocifer blinked. Tristis was definitely the naïve, quirky type. It was better than her being monotonous and boring, at least. "Are we going to get gloves first or are we seeing the shop first?"

"Shop first. I might take a while if we go clothes-shopping," Tristis admitted. "I tend to like clothes too much."

"That's okay. Are you sure you're all right with spending money for a stranger?"

"You're not a stranger," Tristis said, almost rebuked. "You're a guest and a friend. Don't be so doubtful."

"…All right…"

"Anyway, the shop should be open now. Do you want to go see?"

Vocifer blinked. "Of course."

"It's this way." Tristis bounced around a little bit, and then walked hurriedly towards the staircase. As she did so, though, she turned into a different hallway on the right. Vocifer did her best to keep up without running. She accomplished this, though it was difficult.

She followed Tristis into a different door that was the same color as the wall. Vocifer hadn't noticed this door, although now that she thought about it she would be able to see it from the entrance to the mansion. Maybe its camouflage was intentional. Even so, now that she knew where it was, she was aware that she would never be able to not notice it.

The door led into a dark hallway with no odor of cleanliness about it. Vocifer couldn't see where she was going, but she didn't need to; the walls were close enough to her sides that she could practically feel the passage in front of her. She was about to question Tristis's sense of direction, but she told herself that Tristis had probably been this way many times. It was her house, after all. Vocifer would be surprised if she _didn't_ know every square inch of it.

The dark hallway ended soon. As soon as she could see just a little, Vocifer felt a door on her right. She almost opened it, but stopped herself; if Tristis had skipped over it, it was because that wasn't the right way. Plus, Cornix had told her the night before not to open any locked doors. The door was probably locked. That was what she wanted to think, anyway.

She forced herself not to hesitate too long and tailed Tristis into a wider hallway lit with the gray clouds from outside. From behind her acquaintance, she could see the hall extend into a larger room. She couldn't see much of the room, until Tristis suddenly lunged to the left. The room was a long one, and it opened up in that direction; to the front and right, there were just two more doors. To be honest, it was quite confusing.

Tristis's voice from farther along the room caught Vocifer's attention. "Oh, Drossel, you're already here. You're up early."

Vocifer glanced in that direction. Indeed, the butler had been organizing something on the opposite wall, but when Tristis greeted him he turned around and bowed his head just a little. The sight was somewhat odd – Tristis's height was similar to Vocifer's, but even so she was a few inches shorter than Drossel. The butler's bright clothing somehow magnified his presence, though, and he looked to be a full foot taller than he actually was. Vocifer blinked, wondering whether the color could really be a cause of the illusion. Maybe it was just the gray light from outside that made Tristis look small.

Vocifer's eyes scanned the room. Every open wall was lined with either cabinets or shelves of various objects. On the end closest to her perched a tall case filled with a modicum of porcelain wares, while along the adjacent wall small cabinets clung to the crease between it and the ceiling. There was a large grandfather clock standing on one end of the room, its pendulum swinging slowly, patiently. Generally the place looked relatively messy, but it was hard to expect anything else. Perhaps the most conspicuous aspect, though, was the row of dolls lined up just behind the extensive front window. It was hard to tell exactly what they looked like from the back, but judging by their reflection, they were very well-made. Instantly curiosity began tugging at Vocifer, and she mentally convinced herself that Cornix had to have two jobs to be able to do this.

"I like this place," Vocifer muttered to nobody in particular. She kept a close eye on her surroundings to avoid breaking anything as she took small steps around the central table. At least there was nothing obstructive on the floor. The ground was hard, but she couldn't feel it that well beneath her shoes. That was good.

There was a bell just above the front door. She guessed that it would ring when the door was opened, but she didn't want to try it out and annoy the two across the room. So she only investigated the place with her eyes until her gaze landed on Drossel and Tristis again. They were both looking at her curiously from across the room, as if expecting her to say something.

Vocifer paused. "I like it," she repeated more loudly, straightening herself. She could see how someone could sit and sell dolls all day in this shop, perhaps just watching the people outside. It would be a new experience for her, at least. Whoever tended to this place was probably bored of it by now.

She almost asked what sort of stuff the shop owner kept in the cabinets, but she stopped herself. No use in being too nosy. She didn't want to seem like a guest who would only invade privacy.

"You can stay here for a little while if you want," Tristis offered, "if it's okay with Drossel."

Vocifer blinked. "Drossel?" she echoed. "Does he run this place?"

"I do," he replied quickly, but at the same time hesitantly. Perhaps that was just the way he spoke – it didn't sound like any sort of voice Vocifer had heard before. "You can stay as long as you like, as long as you don't touch anything."

"That's fine with me," Vocifer said, albeit a little bit shakily. Something about Drossel's presence was ominous, but she couldn't place it and so disregarded. If she remembered correctly she had told herself the same thing since last night. He wasn't doing anything physically strange, though, so she told herself not to worry.

"It's settled, then." Tristis bounced back towards the dark hallway, glancing briefly back at Vocifer. "I'll come get you in half an hour. If you want to leave early, just come to the front door. Then we can go get you some gloves." With a wink, Tristis vanished back into the hall.

"That was fast," Vocifer muttered to herself. Her eyes were glued to the threshold. Tristis always seemed to have something propelling her feet in a random direction. She wasn't sure whether that was an advantage or a detriment, though.

She turned around and looked at Drossel. She guessed that he wouldn't be as surprised by Tristis's energy – after all, he had lived her at least as long as she. Doubtless he was used to it by now. Not to mention the fact that the butler never seemed perturbed by anything. He didn't even seem bothered that Vocifer thought he was intimidating. The night before, he had only watched her carefully as she shied away.

Drossel began fiddling with more things on the counter on the opposite side of the room. The movement gently pulled Vocifer out of her thoughts, and she watched him for a few seconds. He moved with an intentional precision, and nothing about him ever seemed to be out of place. Perhaps that was one of the traits that a butler needed to be efficient. This was what Vocifer guessed – she wondered whether she could learn a lot just by observing Drossel.

"It's warm in here," she noticed aloud, her eyes moving to the ceiling. She couldn't see any chandeliers or anything of the sort hanging from it, so where did the heat come from? Maybe it was just because the room was small that it held heat so well. Vocifer wasn't a science master, but she at least knew that smaller places tended to be toastier because there was less space to warm up. Could she be comfortable sitting here all day? Compared to this, the actual mansion had to be at least a little chilly. Maybe she could stay here for a while. It was cozy, and she wasn't completely alone. She couldn't say that Drossel was all that social, but he didn't appear to be intentionally shunning her. It was a combination of him being focused on organizing things and her not having much of an inclination to talk to him. She could play a bit of a part in not being so alone in here, though.

Her eyes landed on the central table, where a few glassware lanterns and such were perched precariously, waiting for somebody to pick them up. Vocifer refused to give in to their pleading, though; Drossel had specifically warned her not to touch anything. Something told her she didn't want to anger him.

"Who makes all of these?" she asked across the room, moving her gaze along the many various objects perched in sight of the window. They were all so different from each other, and yet they each had a certain air of creativity about them.

"Others create most of it," Drossel replied, "but the puppets are mine."

Vocifer's eyes widened; she hadn't expected such an answer. "_You_ make the dolls?" she echoed, shuffling over to the window. Now she could see them up close, and she never would have guessed that a butler would have crafted them. "They're amazing."

For the sake of acknowledgment, she glanced back at Drossel. He appeared speechless, though he showed no sign of discomposure. That was another demonstration of his strange trait. Not even the slightest hint of blood colored his face.

Perhaps butlers just weren't used to being complimented. Vocifer didn't mention anything about this, though; she truly was impressed that someone with such a minuscule role in this place as Drossel could create something so exquisite. She smiled, content for no apparent reason. It was better than being depressed for no reason.

She was satisfied with sitting on a conveniently placed chair and admiring the rest of the objects around the room. After a few minutes, though, the tiny bell above the door rang, and someone strolled into the shop from the snow-covered streets.

"Welcome," Drossel called, in his strangely restrained voice. "What interests you today?"

The man proceeded to explain that he wanted to buy one of the dolls in the window for someone's birthday. Without hesitation, Drossel transferred it to him, received the money, and the man left. The whole exchange was so efficient that it seemed to barely last ten seconds. Evidently Drossel was experienced with this type of thing.

Observing the scene, Vocifer smiled. The butler practically had a double life of his own back here. When nothing in particular needed doing, she guessed, or when the other less significant people milling around the mansion were taking care of things, Drossel would come back here and work on whatever he wished. Just the thought of it alone entertained Vocifer.

She continued to watch Drossel put things in place around the shop. Like normal, he didn't acknowledge her presence, and she considered it a good thing. She didn't want her being here to distract him from his… whatever he did. His unnatural violet eyes were always intently focused on whatever he considered important. Only when he passed by her did his gaze land on Vocifer. It was only a glance of recignition, nothing more. Clearly, she did not distract his attention.

Footsteps from the hall behind the shop caused Vocifer to turn her head. Just as her brain took note that Tristis was probably coming back for her, the dark-eyed girl appeared from around the threshold, looking quite excited.

"Are you ready to go out?" she asked without further hesitation, already beginning to bounce on her toes.

Vocifer started to object, but glanced outside. The snow still remained on the ground, cold as ever, but no fresh precipitation had fallen. The clouds were even starting to fall apart – now would be a good time to go outside if there ever was any.

"All right." With a nod, Vocifer readjusted her coat and started towards the hallway. Before she left, she glanced back at Drossel. "Thanks for letting me stay here. I enjoyed it."

He gave nothing but a brief bow of his head.


	4. Chapter 3

Vocifer tailed Tristis back into the mansion, carefully feeling her way along the narrow passage. Once again, she passed the door on her left, but pretended not to notice it. She assumed it was locked.

Tristis quickly produced her own coat and pair of gloves, although she insisted that Vocifer wear one of the duo. Somewhat flustered, Vocifer persistently refused and wrapped her hands inside her jacket. There, her body heat kept them warm even as she stepped outside into the freezing temperatures.

Tristis led her down the pathway to the street, inidistinguishable from the sidewalk thanks to the fallen snow. This didn't seem to bother Tristis; she only stayed as close to the buildings as possible without touching them, and so was assured that she wasn't walking on the street.

Slowly a trickle of sunshine began to embrace the city, granting it a little bit of warmth (but still not nearly enough to melt the ice). A few people were already out and about, and these people would often pass by Vocifer and Tristis. The latter often gave them a smile, but didn't always get anything in return. It was evident that these people didn't know Tristis, but she acknowledged their presence anyway.

Tristis slowed down in front of a seemingly random building and started inside. When Vocifer hesitated, she turned back. "Come on. What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing. I just haven't been here before is all." Vocifer followed Tristis inside.

It was relatively dark, though a few well-placed lamps illuminated the slightly empty-looking place. Vocifer wasn't surprised to hear a bell murmur as she entered this building as well.

Instantly in response to the noise a woman bustled out of the darkness somewhere in the back of the shop. Despite the scant illumination, Vocifer could see that she had a round face and bright eyes, though she couldn't be sure of hair color in the blackness.

"Back again, Tristis?" the woman asked, clearly recognizing the dark-eyed girl.

"Yep," Tristis replied cheerfully, "and I have a visitor."

"You do? What are you looking for?"

"Something warm. Another pair of gloves, maybe."

The woman drew closer until her shape was clearly visible in the orange light. "That'll work just fine. Who's the visitor?"

"My name is Vocifer Manchester," she answered politely. "Pleased to meet you."

"You can call me Afer," the woman offered. "Tristis knows me well."

"I visit this place a lot," Tristis said hurriedly, and then turned to Afer. "Do you have a pair of gloves that can fit Vocifer's hands?"

When Afer leaned a little bit closer, Vocifer instinctively held out her small hands.

"I may have just the thing," Afer said confidently. "A young lady came in earlier this fall saying she didn't need her gloves anymore. They should be perfect for you.

Vocifer nodded silently, though Afer had already shuffled back into the darkness. She could practically feel Tristis rising up and falling back down on her toes next to her. That must be another trait of her inability to sit still.

Vocifer's eyes searched the blackness for a short while before Afer returned, carrying a dark blue bundle in her hands. From there, it was only a few seconds before she presented the bundle to Vocifer: a pair of gently-used, warm-looking gloves just begging to be put on.

"Try these on for size," Afer suggested, apparently anxious to stop touching them for whatever reason.

At first Vocifer hesitated – hopefully there was nothing bad on these gloves – but she calmed down and slipped them onto her hands. They were slightly too big but other than that were a perfect fit, and her hands were growing toasty just thinking about wearing them.

"They're good," Vocifer said slowly, glancing expectantly at Afer. The shopkeeper appeared satisfied, but made no movement in response.

Instead, Afer turned back to Tristis. "Was there anything else you wanted?"

Tristis thought for a moment, her eyes going to the (at this point, invisible) ceiling. "Do you have some good snow boots, too?"

Afer shook her head despondently. "Unfortunately, the last pair just went out the door yesterday. Sorry to disappoint you, but we have no boots." She seemed acutely disappointed at not being able to serve a valued customer.

"Oh." Nonetheless, Tristis perked up quickly. "That's okay! The gloves will be it for now, then."

Without much more conversation, Tristis dug a few coins out of her pocket and transferred them to Afer. Waving amiably, she left the shop, and Vocifer hurried out behind her, thanking Afer as she did so.

Once the two were standing in the cold air again, (with her hands comfortably warm) Vocifer glanced sideways at Tristis. "Didn't you say you would look around some more?"

Tristis shrugged as if it didn't matter. "I'm not really in the mood right now. At the moment I think it would be fun to take a walk in the snow, don't you?"

"I may as well try these gloves out."

And so the duo continued in the same direction down the sidewalk. As before, Tristis would give a small greeting to anyone who passed, though she usually got no reply. Still, she refused to be discouraged in her lightheartedness.

A corner approached, and Tristis steered her duo to the left. To Vocifer, all of the buildings looked the same, made of the same grey stone in the same pattern, though the street was different around every turn. She didn't mention this to Tristis, though; her brain was only acting like this because she wasn't used to London.

Though the sun had presented itself briefly before, the clouds were now reclaiming their sky, and threatened to continue snowing once more. Vocifer kept her eyes ahead, but Tristis was constantly glancing upward, as though she feared that the two would have to duck into shelter the moment the first new snowflake fell. Vocifer disregarded this as well – Tristis probably wasn't the average person in England, and so she had nothing to worry about.

Tristis continually made seemingly random turns. Even so, Vocifer noticed that she had a tendency to pick left if there was a choice in direction. Wouldn't she just lead them in circles if she did that? At this rate they would end up back at the mansion. Although, a new possibility entered Vocifer's mind. If Tristis _did_ keep turning left, they would end up back at the mansion, but they would be going in through the back door sooner than anything. Perhaps Tristis was doing so intentionally. Vocifer resisted the urge to ask, though, in case her friend wanted it to be a surprise.

Instead, she observed the gray world around here. As she thought about how long she had been outside, a new question entered her mind, and she began a conversation. "Your parents are both architects, right? What sort of thing do you want to do when you live by yourself?"

"I haven't thought about it much," Tristis admitted. "I'm definitely going to keep the art streak going… although I'm not sure exactly what I want to do with it." The expression on her face was very thoughtful. "I could paint, or I could design buildings like they do, but that would be boring. I wonder if there's anything else three-dimensional I could do. Perhaps I could work with glass, as long as I don't cut myself. And of course, I'd need free time."

"That's a good original idea," Vocifer interceded. "What do you think you would make?"

"I really don't know. Probably just some sort of sculpture."

"Ineresting."

Tristis turned back to Vocifer, smiling playfully once more. "How about you? What do _you_ want to do when _you_ live alone?"

Vocifer hesitated so badly that she almost stopped walking. "To be honest, I've never thought about it. I assumed I'd stay with my parents until I could afford a bit of an education…" Her voice trailed off as she contemplated her answer.

"Oh." Tristis seemed discouraged. She seemed like she might say something else, but she remained silent.

About a minute passed before she spoke up again. "It looks like we're almost back. Would you like to go in the back way?"

"As long as it's open," Vocifer responded, grateful for the distraction. She had thought about this earlier when she was in the shop. "But if Drossel's helping your parents, wouldn't the door be closed?"

"Maybe. We'll just have to hope they're not in need of anything at the moment. If they are, we can always go back around."

It was clear that Vocifer was being led into somewhere relatively secluded. The streets were getting too narrow for wheeled traffic to pass through, and no people showed up anymore. Sets of footprints in the snow were the only signs that anyone lived her. The sky above them was an even darker gray, and Vocifer could almost feel snow falling far above. Buildings huddled close together with little light in their windows, if any at all. Vocifer started to shiver – not because she was cold, but because such a dismal place was slightly disconcerting, even in the winter light. She wondered how anyone reached the back of the mansion when it was located in such a place.

Before long a drop of ice fell onto her face, and she shook it vigorously. Even as she did so, Tristis was lively. She was about to ask what was keeping Tristis so energetic when the dark-eyed girl gave an answer: "Look, it's just around that corner. We're almost there."

The last few steps were relatively quick, and as soon as the duo rounded the corner, there was a lantern on farther down the street. It was well within sight, and it enticed Vocifer to speed up to a quick walk. As she did so, she scanned the outside of the building to which the lantern was attached. It was made of the same brick as its surroundings, though the door was indented next to the large, protruding window. The place looked a lot different outside from the way it looked on the inside. There was a large number "46" written above the door, and overall it looked enticing with its welcoming light, petite dolls and various light fixtures. Even so, knowing that there was a dark hallway just out of sight from the window, it didn't seem all that bright to Vocifer.

Pausing to examine the outside a moment longer, Vocifer tried the door. It was open, and she slipped inside, already used to the noise of the bell signalling the visitor. Indeed, Drossel was still inside, and at the noise he turned around. Evidently he noticed that it was Vocifer returning, but he still didn't turn away. Strangely, Vocifer was grateful for the attention; somehow, knowing that she was being acknowledged satisfied her.

"We're back," she declared, stepping inside just as Tristis entered and activated the bell again. Drossel was already surveying the door, and so had no need to show a reaction. As always, his face was just about emotionless, though his purple eyes had a definite lively gleam to them. If it wasn't for that, Vocifer might just believe that he was a puppet himself. But surely that was impossible; no puppet could ever be as lifelike as Drossel was. Besides, there were no strings connecting him to the ceiling or any similar thing.

As expected, Drossel responded with nothing but a nod. He looked like he might tell the duo something but decided against it.

"Did you want to say anything?" Vocifer offered.

He shook his head slowly in response.

She still wasn't used to butlers, but she didn't want Drossel to feel like his only use around here was doing random household chores. Not if he had enough talent to make all of these dolls. Perhaps Drossel had the potential to be something more than a butler…

"Are you hungry?" Tristis asked from farther into the hallway. Vocifer turned her head quickly; she hadn't notice Tristis sneak behind her. Maybe she was paying too much attention to the butler. _Or the artist._

"Not yet," Vocifer replied, moving her gaze to Tristis. Drossel never seemed to react to much anything, but that was all right with her. He definitely wasn't mean. "Why, is there something in particular you wanted to do?"

"We just did it." Tristis bounced a little. "Is there anything you want to keep in your room?"

Feeling drawn into the conversation, Vocifer started down the dark hallway. "No thanks." Before she disappeared completely around the corner, she glanced back at Drossel. Once again, as he always did, he acknowledged her with a nod. This time, though, Vocifer was content enough to smile back. She couldn't be sure whether he noticed it, but she was satisfied with paying notice to the fact that Drossel was a bit more than just a butler.

"Anyway," she told Tristis, "I don't have a lot of things with me anyway, so there's nothing much I need to keep in my room anyway. I'm glad I have a warm bed, though."

"There you go again, thanking us," Tristis said playfully, but not spitefully. That was all Vocifer heard before the pair disappeared into the hallway. The darkness quashed all sound other than footsteps, and for a minute the mansion seemed perfectly silent.

Vocifer was vaguely aware of her left side brushing the wall, and then separating vaguely from it once she passed the door again. It was that door that always pulled at her curiosity, but she recalled Cornix's advice from the first day and forced her attention to turn from it. Snooping around in a house like this wouldn't be nice, especially not when its owners were working so hard to take care of her (or not – being from a relatively unwealthy family herself, she didn't need much taking care of in the first place). That would seem too ungrateful.

And so the duo returned to the main part of the house, where the oversized front door was visible. Apart from the whispers of bustling undefined people working in the shadows, the place was silent. Vocifer assumed that Cornix and Atricilla were still doing whatever work they did with this "architect" stuff. To tell the truth, Vocifer didn't exactly grasp the meaning of an "architect," but she didn't want to keep asking dumb questions. She felt as though not knowing what a butler is was enough.

She glanced out the front window. Indeed, as she had feared, more white flakes were falling from the sky, although in a considerably smaller flurry than yesterday. That was a relief. It would still be cold and slightly wet outside, though, and the snow wouldn't melt for a while. Vocifer didn't really expect anything less; winter was winter, and snow fell in winter.

In a short while the afternoon arrived, and Cornix and Atricilla finally reappeared from upstairs. Once more, the group herded themselves into the small parlor. It was once she entered this room for the second time in her stay here that Vocifer noticed the tall clock in a far corner. Though considerably smaller, it was almost identical to the one in Drossel's shop. Perhaps the family just liked it that way. Or maybe, she fantasized, the family didn't even know Drossel made puppets. At this thought, Vocifer mentally slapped herself. Of course they had to know. Doubtless they knew every inch of this mansion more than she ever would.

Cornix and Atricilla reclaimed their seats closer to the fireplace – either out of habit or just because they preferred to, they were perched in the exact same space as they had been the first night Vocifer arrived here. Following suit, Vocifer positioned herself closest to the door, and Tristis fell into a chair next to her. During the day while the two had been out, someone had restocked the fireplace with fresh wood. It was most likely one of those other people like the one who served breakfast. Mini-butlers, perhaps.

Cornix hastily lit the fire again, vanquishing a bit of the cold in the room. Within a few minutes the door opened, and Vocifer turned her eyes towards it. As she had anticipated, Drossel stepped into the room, temporarily putting on hold his life as a dollmaker. At the thought of him being some sort of double agent, Vocifer smiled. This night was definitely different from the first; tonight she knew most of what was going on and was aware of what to expect from Drossel.

Cornix didn't react to the butler's presence immediately. He was either too relaxed, or too worn out from a day's work. Nevertheless, Drossel kept his position just inside the threshold, slowly shutting the door. Now the orange firelight was the only counterpart to the gray illumination outside once more. It dyed the normally bluish room an interesting color, and Vocifer scanned her surroundings with interest. It gave the room a tone that was both ominous and comforting at the same time. Everyone's faces were gleaming golden on one side and slate-gray on the other. Drossel was reluctantly staying in the shadows of the walls, however, and so his vivid purple eyes seemed a duller gray in the darkness. Still, he had a certain alertness about him. Doubtless he was waiting for one of them to request something.

The crackling of the flames was the only noise filling the room for what felt like an hour. Vocifer told herself that it had to only have been a few minutes, but the snow had slackened, and so she began wondering whether her sense of time had been knocked away by something. Her eyes, without anything else to do, were searching the room. The clock's ticking in the opposite corner was near-silent, and even if it was horrendously loud it would have camouflaged itself behind the protesting popping of the blaze in the fireplace. Even Tristis appeared to be half-asleep. Clearly she was relaxed by the general warmth of the room and the softness of the chair beneath her.

After completing a full revolution around the room, Vocifer's gaze returned to Drossel. He must have had a knack for knowing when others were looking at him, because he returned her pale glance with his own violet eyes. Though he otherwise remained perfectly still, a light that was very alived flickered in his gaze. It was clear that he was aware of his surroundings, poised as he may be.

Vocifer blinked and looked back at the floor. Her eyes probably wandered too much. She didn't want to embarrass Drossel by staring at him all the time. The only reason she did so was because he was the most colorful thing in the room – other than the fire, which was too bright to stare at anyway.

Her mind was finally offered a distraction when Cornix sent Drossel to fetch the tea once more. With an understanding nod, the butler vanished back out of the room with the quickness of a fox.

Somehow the room felt more lonely without him. Cornix and Atricilla were always holed up somewhere else in the mansion, so they were generally uninteresting to Vocifer. She had become quite acquainted with Tristis, and enjoyed spending time with the bouncy young lady, even if she never really did anything except talk. Drossel was a little different, though. In the regular life of the mansion, he was only a butler, transferring himself between rooms and doing what needed to be done. But whenever was convenient, doubtless he would return to his puppet shop and chase his own fantasies there. Vocifer found her mind lingering on him longer than she had anticipated; perhaps he was just easier to think about because she had watched him more closely than anyone else. That must be the result of her sitting around in his puppet shop looking at things; in there, he was the only other thing that moved.

She watched the door for a minute longer before she sank back into her chair. She started to relax, but then something prickled at the edge of her senses. She was being watched. Flustered, Vocifer instantly turned to Tristis. As always, the dark-eyed girl had a playful, contented expression on her face.

"You're staring again," Tristis commented, with a lighthearted tone of mischief.

Vocifer blinked, shaking herself off. "I guess I'm still not used to this place." She probably would never be if she stayed here much longer.

That brought a new, more bothersome thought to her mind. How long would she stay here, anyway? She only anticipated another day or two. Surely someone would be looking for her by now. It would be impossible for Nophis to not notice her falling out of the carriage… she would have tried to find her by now. Did they still use dogs? That would be impossible… it had been snowing for at least a couple of days now. This was all so confusing and it made her brain hurt. She put her hands to her head and settled farther into the chair.

Only a few seconds seemed to pass before the door whispered open and Drossel reappeared with the tea set. Vocifer wasn't aware of this until he approached her as he had the night before. His presence was still a bit dark, but she wasn't as wary of it anymore. Slowly she removed her fingers from her tousled hair and shook herself off, silently accepting one of the cups. As she did so, she expected Drossel to transfer himself to Tristis. He didn't do so immediately, though; he lingered thoughtfully in front of Vocifer for a few seconds before he turned and began serving to the others. Vocifer didn't acknowledge any of this. She only stared into the dark liquid for a moment before drawing some into her lips. The fire warmed her on the outside, and now this tasty beverage brought her heat from within as well. She would have felt content had it not for the nagging thought that nobody cared that she wasn't staying with her cousins like she should have.

Nevertheless, she slowly swallowed her tea. She felt Tristis's gaze on her several times, but the buoyant young lady never spoke a word. Once again, the room was silent as soon as Drossel's footsteps disappeared outside the hall.

The clock murmured secrets to the fire as the tiny white snowflakes cascaded down outside. Formerly they had slowed their descent, but now the snow had picked up again, piling the frozen ground even higher. The gray outside slowly faded to a darker shade, signaling the gradual setting of the sun. Vocifer leaned her head against the back of her chair and rested her mind and body. She refused to let herself fall asleep, but to tell the truth she couldn't tell whether her thoughts would allow her to sleep peacefully even if she wanted to. Once that poisoned thought of not being acknowledged had entered her mind, it dug itself into the walls of her skull and refused to budge from there.

Time crept slowly by in the near-silence until the golden firelight faded to nothing but a few strong embers. The moment it appeared to die, Cornix rose from his chair and left the room hastily, followed shortly by Atricilla. Vocifer couldn't say that they always seemed to be in a hurry because she didn't watch them all the time, but clearly they were busy with their "architect" business.

The room was too empty for Vocifer to stand it. The fire was harmless now, and Tristis only sat, apparently enjoying the science. Unable to stand the buzzing in her head, Vocifer rose to her feet as well. She glanced at the clock as she headed for the door; it was getting relatively late, and she could lie in bed for a while, but it would be impossible to sleep until the place grew truly dark. The evening would be descending soon, and then she would slumber whether she liked it or not.

"Are you going to bed already?" Tristis inquired, hopping along behind her. "It's not even that dark yet."

"Maybe," Vocifer replied curtly. "I'm just a little tired. I think I need some sleep."

"If you say so," Tristis inquired. "I'll show you where the library is tomorrow."

She started to walk away, but Vocifer interceded before she could leave earshot. "I don't think you need too. I probably won't be here long enough to make much use of it."

Tristis's movement receded to somewhere else, and Vocifer started up the staircase. "Hopefully."


	5. Chapter 4

Another relatively average morning. At least it wasn't snowing anymore.

Vocifer joined Tristis for breakfast. Unexpectedly, Cornix and Atricilla were there, too. As they ate, the two parents made small talk with Vocifer – whether her room was comfortable and things to that effect, mostly. Vocifer tried to keep her voice calm as she asked whether they had heard from anyone with the last name Manchester. As though they had never heard the name before, both of them replied negatively. It didn't take much effort for Vocifer to conceal her disappointment; her hopes hadn't been all that high in the first place.

Just as the four were finishing up, Atricilla glanced at Vocifer expectantly. "Oh, and for some reason Drossel told me he needed you two to help with him something." Her expression was sincerely puzzled as she transferred it to Tristis, thus including her in the conversation.

"Really?" Tristis squeaked. "That's strange. He doesn't usually do something like that. I wonder what it could be?"

"He didn't specify," Atricilla said regretfully. "I guess you'll find out."

"I guess we will," Vocifer said quietly.

"Well, then let's go," Tristis urged, immediately rising from her seat and rushing out of the room. Startled, Vocifer stood up and followed after her at a slightly more hesitant pace. What could Drossel possibly need help with when he already had so much ability? Clearly it involved more than one person acting on something simultaneously.

The two shuffled back through the dark hallway leading to the puppet shop. Tristis had insisted that this was where the butler would be; he was rarely anywhere else when nothing needed to be done.

This time, Vocifer ignored the beckoning door in the wall. Something else apparently needed doing at the moment – she wouldn't let something like a door distract her.

Tristis was in the front, and once the shop came into view, she called, "Drossel, what was it you needed us for?"

As soon as she set foot in the store, she stopped dead. This resulted in Vocifer practically sending her sprawling on the ground; she hadn't expected such a sudden halt. Eventually, Vocifer regained her composure and tried to nudge Tristis out of the way so that she could see what might be the matter.

Slowly Tristis submitted and positioned herself farther along the wall. Vocifer rounded the corner, and instantly she knew what was wrong.

The first thing she noticed was that Drossel was waiting for them right outside the threshold. As far as she knew, that wasn't normal for him – he would always be adjusting something on the far end of the shop. The second thing she noticed was that he was clutching a strange object in front of him and looking quite mystified over its identity.

"What is it?" Tristis asked, attempting to look at the object from several different angles as though doing so might allow her to make more sense of the situation.

Vocifer blinked. "I think it's a chicken."

Indeed, the object was shaped and colored like a lifelike chicken, though it was clearly never alive. In every aspect it looked to be some sort of puppet. Vocifer wondered where it came from – evidently Drossel had never made a chicken puppet before, and even if he had his first chicken wouldn't look as well-crafted as this.

Drossel looked thoroughly flustered. "I can't… sell this," he muttered to himself, his voice more constrained than ever. Even to Vocifer, it was obvious that the chicken was not his work and it spread incredulousness throughout his entire being.

"How did you get a hold of this… chicken?" Vocifer inquired, just as puzzled as the other two.

Drossel was clearly discomposed, though strangely his face did not color one bit. "Somebody just came in, gave it to me and left. Apparently they expected me to sell it to someone."

"That's not something that happens every day," Tristis said, her voice sliding between pitches in a perfect arpeggio.

"Could I see it?" Vocifer asked, moving her hands slightly away from her torso. Unsurprisingly, the butler willingly thrust it into her grip, clearly relieved to get the thing out of his possession.

Vocifer looked the chicken over. Though on the outside its fake feathers were indescribably soft and silky, its inside was hard and supposedly wooden. It was just like any other of the dolls Drossel might craft… apart from the fact that it was a chicken, and a rather cartoonish one at that. Its lifeless, beady eyes stared up at Vocifer, and she made a disgruntled face.

"I wonder who came up with the idea to make this," Tristis thought aloud, surveying the thing thoroughly with her own eyes.

"Whoever he is, he must live on a farm," Vocifer murmured, turning it around in her hands. It looked like some sort of holiday ornament that only half-belonged in a puppet shop like this. She glanced up at Drossel; his expression and his shoulders had both relaxed considerably, and now he looked as though he never wanted to look at it again. Evidently it didn't appeal to his aesthetic taste.

Vocifer looked back down at the chicken. Its misplaced eyes and tiny beak gave it a sort of pleading expression. Examining it closer, Vocifer couldn't help but smile. She wouldn't mind keeping it in her room for a while, especially not when it seemed to bother Drossel and Tristis so much. Its presence was definitely unwanted in this puppet shop.

"I guess I'll keep it with me and see if anything _magical _happens," Vocifer said, swirling her hands around a little at the penultimate word in the sentence. She heard Tristis chuckle, but Drossel wasn't visibly amused. Now that he wasn't the one handling the chicken, he had recovered his mask of composure and was looking between her and Tristis, almost expectantly.

"I'll be right back," Vocifer said quickly. "I just have to put this away somewhere, and then I guess I'll spend more time in here today." She started back for the hallway, already feeling the floor tentatively with her feet. "Tristis, can you tell me if anyone comes to the door looking for a Manchester?"

"Of course," Tristis responded hastily with a nod.

"See you in a minute."

Vocifer paused for a moment at the door. The chicken incident had been resolved, and now its presence was nagging at her again. Quite overwhelmed with curiosity, she nudged the knob. Thankfully, it didn't turn a bit, and she exhaled slowly. It was locked. That meant that something secretive was behind it, and she would never open it.

Now everyone's problems seemed to have been drawn to a close. Vocifer ascended the stairs outside the hallway and slipped into her room. Where would she keep this strange chicken doll? After circling the place a few times, she decided to settle it into her pillow. She almost felt like a ten-year-old again; it looked so comfortable sitting there, nestled into the… feathers. How ironic. Suppressing a laugh, Vocifer strolled out of the room again, aiming for the dark hallway once more.

She used her hands to guide herself through the narrow, invisible passage until light returned to her eyes slightly, and she could at least see the outlines of the wall. The sides of the hall drew slowly away from her. She let her arms drop to her hips, sliding her feet carefully until the brightness returned and the familiar image of the (now considerably less chaotic) puppet shop faded into view.

Peacefully Vocifer slid into the room, keeping her eyes on her surroundings as not to break anything. Drossel was back at the edges of the room moving things around, though he still had a certain hesitation to his movement. (Vocifer hoped he wasn't traumatized by the chicken incident.) Tristis was nowhere to be seen.

_She must have gone back into the mansion_,Vocifer told herself, reclaiming the same chair that had been here yesterday. It was her third day at the mansion now, and she still had no sign of leaving.

She rested her chin on her hands, letting her eyes wander the various objects in the shop until one caught her eye. She knew for sure that this one hadn't been here yesterday, and she wondered whether it was physically possible that it had been assembled overnight. It was a large wooden box made of some finely cut dark wood she didn't recognize. Overall, it was quite intricate and stood on four tiny, stocky legs. It appeared to have no lid, but it looked as though it didn't need one – nothing convenient might be stored inside it. On its fromt was a carving of what looked like a window but was probably just decorative. The middle, square panel was colored red and not gray like the others. In the center of this panel was a blue insignia vaguely resembling a flower that looked strikingly familiar to Vocifer. She had seen this design somewhere before, but where?

She glanced up at Drossel's back. "What's this box?"

The question appeared to catch his attention more than anything else she had asked him. Still, he didn't turn on her furiously; he only rotated his entire self slowly as his violet eyes examined the box.

"Nothing special." Drossel turned back around, continuing whatever he had been doing before he was interrupted.

"Did you make it last night?" Vocifer asked. "It wasn't here before."

"I must have left it out."

He was being strangely hesitant about the box. Vocifer took it as a sign that he didn't want to talk about it much, and so she dropped the subject.

Silence returned to the puppet shop, apart from objects gently rubbing against each other when Drossel moved them. The snow-covered world waited patiently outside, refusing to let anyone set foot in it. Vocifer was satisfied to sit here, letting her eyes wander the place and listening to the perfect silence. It wasn't a sense of boredom as much as a sense of simplicity.

A few minutes passed in the comforting quiet. Vocifer thought she heard a near-silent hum like that of a bee interrupt the still air, but lost the sense of the sound relatively quickly. It was probably just her imagination.

Silence pressed on her ears, and a nonexistent buzzing noise resounded inside of them. She shoved away the sensation. She was at relative peace, doing nothing but sitting here in the puppet shop. Still, the issue from last night tugged at the recesses of her brain. Would anyone ever come looking for her?

She sat in the gentle loneliness of the puppet shop. It tried to comfort her but was only making the problem worse; she couldn't help but feel that nobody cared that she existed.

The clinking of random objects from the other end of the shop brought her attention back to the world around her. Drossel was still moving around over there, and he was the only other person here. Well, at least she wasn't entirely alone now. Still, nobody was moving around outside. Vocifer felt vaguely as though she was on a deserted island in the middle of the ocean.

"Do you think anyone's ever going to come for me?" she asked the nearly empty room, as she kept her eyes at the box on the table. Perhaps her crazy mind was telling her to talk to the strange box.

Inevitably, though, Drossel heard the question as well. Being a butler, he felt obliged to answer. It was difficult to come up with something satisfactory to such a question, though.

The silence of the room was no reply. Vocifer glanced up from the box, suddenly recalling Drossel's presence. He acknowledged her, at least – he wasn't like the rest of the outside world that didn't seem to care for her at all.

"Well, at least I'm not _completely_ alone here," Vocifer said, raising her voice a little. Tristis and Drossel both paid attention to the fact that she existed. (The latter was a bit more passive about it, of course.) She was grateful that this family had pulled her off of the freezing street and taken care of her so nicely.

She put her hands behind her head and looked up at the ceiling for a few moments. "I could spend a while just sitting here," she murmured to herself. This puppet shop was so cozy and full of pretty things. If she _was_ going to be stuck in this mansion for a while, she might as well have fun staying here.

The silence returned again, except this time it was more tentative, more hesitant. Vocifer was glad that it was being hesitant about bothering her. Normally she didn't personify a thing like silence, but doing so made her feel considerably more comfortable in this place.

Once again, the quiet was broken by that insect-humming noise that may or may not have existed outside of Vocifer's mind. Despite that, she listened to it focusedly, for no other reason than because she could hear it at all. In around half a minute, though, it seemed to fade again, and her mind relaxed.

Then the noise returned, and this time it escalated into audible humming. It was quite musical, and of a naggingly familiar tune, and the tone was deep and relaxed. Even with minimal thinking, Vocifer decided the voice could belong to none other than…

"Drossel, I didn't know you could sing, too," Vocifer said incredulously. Technically, humming was only a small modicum of singing, but it took practice to make them both sound decent. Perhaps the silence had been too much for him previously, and it was now as he broke it.

At Vocifer's statement, he looked back over his shoulder at her, and the humming instantly stopped. Vocifer hadn't ruled out the possibility that she would startle him with such an observation, but as long as she wasn't being annoyed, him receiving compliments about his voice was fine.

"Oh. I don't really," Drossel said even more slowly than usual. His eyes went to the floor and he started to face his work again, though once again it was strange that no color came to his face. Vocifer guessed that blushing just wasn't that natural for him.

"Then you must have a natural talent," Vocifer said smoothly, a vague smile playing across her face. The puppet shop seemed a lot less empty when she was talking to someone, and usually Drossel was the only other person here. Having one-on-one mini-conversations was definitely different from talking to Tristis. It was mainly because these conversations were rather one-sided; Drossel didn't talk much. He was evidently more of the "just do it and speak when you need to" type.

And so Vocifer sat quietly in the puppet shop for a while. Occasionally someone would slip in, look around and slip out, sometimes taking one of the objects with them. Still the lonely dolls sat on the windowsill, peering out with bright, fake eyes.

When the shop stalled into nothingness for a while, Drossel would seem to forget that he was anywhere at all, and he would start humming the familiar tune again. Vocifer would listen contentedly, mostly glad just to be relatively alone. Eventually she started wondering why she had thought Drossel was intimidating in the first place.

After a short amount of time Drossel removed his attention from the corner of the shop and circumnavigated the walls, examining each cabinet and shelf closely as though he was searching for something important. As soon as he had circled the entire room he paused at the door for a moment and then started for the back hallway.

Vocifer didn't need to ask him what was going on. Clearly some instinct was telling him that there was something that needed doing in the mansion, and he would leave his shop to sleep by itself for now.

He suddenly stepped aside, evidently to let Vocifer go first. He was waiting for her to slide into the darkness. As she passed, she looked into his knowing purple eyes for another time. The moment she did so, there was a strange undetermined sensation in her, as though someone had tapped her on the shoulder and convinced her to glance back to the wall. Alert, she scanned the shop to her right, but there was nobody there.

_Drossel wouldn't have played a trick like that… so what was that just now?_

Slightly puzzled, she proceeded into the hallway until all of her vision faded to black, and then she used her hands and feet to guide herself back into the light on the other side of the door.

As soon as she could see again, something almost shoved her back into the hallway. Startled, she braced herself against the wall. Tristis had rushed forward at her, clearly intending to get into the shop without knowing that Vocifer had been leaving at the same time.

"I was just coming to find you," Tristis said breathlessly, backing out of the way. "I have something important to say."

Vocifer placed herself at a comfortable distance from the camouflaged door and faced Tristis. "What is it?"

She took a deep breath as though something was stressing her out. "My parents just left to take care of a job farther west. We're probably going to be alone for three days or so… isn't that fun?" As usual, she started bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Uh." Vocifer didn't really know how to respond. "I don't know. I've never been left alone like this before. Do you consider it fun?"

"Neither have I, but it sure will be an adventure, will it?"

Vocifer couldn't disagree with that sort of logic. She pressed her lips shut.

"So we're going to take care of ourselves for a short while," Tristis went on. "Of course, there are other people here who can help us, but they're not my parents or anything. It'll be an interesting time, won't it?"

"I wonder what it'll be like," Vocifer muttered to herself, but in her mind it was worded differently. _I wonder how chaotic this could get._

She let her mind wander around in its own imagination for a minute. When her eyes landed on one of the front windows, her brain came up with a subject-switcher.

"What's this place like at night?" she asked, starting towards the door. "I'd like to see a little bit of London covered in snow at night. We have some warm clothes, don't we?"

"We do," Tristis said hesitantly, "but it's not dark yet. That might have to wait."

"I know. Just an idea."

A few seconds passed in silence. That was strange… it shouldn't be silent.

Vocifer turned around. Wasn't Drossel just following her a minute ago? Now he had disappeared. Where could he have gone? _Maybe there's something behind that door._

She shrugged inwardly. As long as he hadn't vanished into thin air, everything should be fine. That was physically impossible anyway.

Fortunately, the sky darkened quickly, and no new snow was descending from it. None of it on the ground had melted, but at least it wasn't piling up like it had been for the last two nights. Regardless, the air outside was still cold – cold enough for the snow to stay frozen at the very least.

Vocifer pulled her relatively new gloves onto her hands before she even opened the door. Now that Tristis had so considerately bought them for her, she might as well show appreciation for them. It wasn't as though she needed to fake it or anything.

Tristis bounced merrily out the front door into the frigid outdoors. She showed no sign of discomfort as she did so; the ice crunched like dried leaves beneath her feet, and it seemed to calm her considerably.

Vocifer followed in a more relaxed manner. The low temperatures kept her energetic desires away from her, and so all she wanted to do at the moment was walk in the same loop she had treaded the day before and survey the lights slowly flickering on in the solemn buildings. Nighttime was often different from the daytime, and she wanted to see what it was like here in London.

"What are you waiting for?" Tristis called, strolling away into the grayish-blue backdrop of the sky. At her speed, she didn't get very far, but Vocifer still made it a point to keep up with her.

The two descended onto the same sidewalk they had traversed before and turned left. Vocifer hardly noticed that she had been here before, though – it looked so different in the dark. Many orangeish lights were on in the windows, but they did not reveal anything that may have been inside the buildings. Every house or shop looked like a canvas of black or brown dotted with gleaming fireflies.

Their square shadows loomed over the grey-and-white-dotted night sky. Everything looked so different after the sun had gone down. Though the white snow still plastered the street, the place seemed a lot more warm and welcoming than it did on a cold winter morning. Vocifer's eyes wandered in every direction, and at one point she even spun in a full circle to survey her surroundings. The watching shadow of the mansion reared up on the small rise, watching her out of its lit windows.

A frigid wind murmured through the buildings, and Vocifer clutched her hands together. The city was definitely pretty at night, but she wasn't sure if it made up for the icy temperatures that came with winter.

The duo passed the secondhand shop where Tristis had obtained Vocifer's gloves. The latter glanced at this only fleetingly and then continued walking. It was miraculous that she could remember which building it was, here in the dark.

They rounded the second corner again. This was where Vocifer began to have trouble remembering where she was. Tristis must have miraculous memory to know where to go – or perhaps she had just followed this route many times before. The latter was definitely the more likely possibility.

Vocifer's gaze kept rising to the roofs. They blended in so perfectly with the night sky that she often estimated their position incorrectly, and resulted in her staring at a cloud instead. Whenever she noticed this, she would return her attention to wherever she was walking.

She continued to take in the sights until they passed into the deserted-looking part of London again. Any lights that shone through glass were somber and lonely – evidently inhabited homes were few and far between. The frigid air seemed to drop in temperature once again, and Vocifer clutched her hands tight to her sides. Tristis didn't appear to be at all perturbed by the isolation of this place. The possibility that she had been this way many times before suddenly became even more probable.

Vocifer endured the freezing loneliness for only another few minutes until the welcoming lights of the puppet shop inched back into view. She sighed in relief, trying to keep her voice down. (It was likely that Tristis would be able to see the moist cloud of breath, though.) At last some familiar territory to ease her mind. She had never been one to think of many ghost stories, but if she stayed here much longer her pondering might just float in that direction.

She wanted to disregard Tristis and pull ahead, but at the same time what she didn't want was to seem rude and ungrateful. Instead, she endured the wind for just a moment longer, and then spoke. "Thanks for taking me on a walk. I enjoyed it, even though it's cold."

"No problem," came the immediate reply, and once again Tristis bounced ahead.

At least now Vocifer had an excuse to move faster. Her spirits heightened considerably, she sped up her timidly slow walk and arrived briefly at the door to the puppet shop.

She peered up at the large 46 imprinted above the door again. She wondered what the number might mean; she had never really gotten much of a professional education, so she had no clue about the function of the number, but at least she knew it in terms of quantity.

After that brief hesitation, Vocifer tested the door, pulled it outward and stepped inside. Instantly the warmth of the shop met her, and she suppressed the urge to sigh again.

Tristis slipped inside, her dark eyes flicking to every corner of the room. "That's odd. Drossel's not here. I haven't seen him leave the shop unlocked when he's not here. I wonder what could be going on in his mind?"

Vocifer blinked. For some reason she hadn't noticed Drossel's lack of presence here, but now that Tristis mentioned it, the situation _was_ strange. What reasoning would he have to leave the shop unlocked when he wasn't here? Maybe he was lingering somewhere nearby, or he would be back from wherever he was so quickly that it wasn't worth locking up. That had to be it.

"Oh, well," Tristis sighed, and then her tone perked up again. "How about I go on ahead and get someone to fix us some nice, hot tea? You can meet me in the room with the fireplace again."

Vocifer hadn't had tea every night before, and to tell the truth she was starting to tire of it, but as soon as her mouth could open to protest Tristis had already danced into the dark hallway. That was aggravating.

She exhaled deeply and glanced fleetingly at the objects on the center table before starting slowly down the hallway herself.

The darkness enveloped her once more, though it was far more comforting than outside. Her hands instinctively went to the dusty walls as her sight faded away and she relied even more on touch. The lack of footsteps told her that Tristis had already gone ahead into the mansion; for the second time in a few days, Vocifer was completely alone. Even so, the first time didn't count much because Cornix had doubtleslly been watching. Now nobody was around, and she indulged in her lonely darkness.

She stood there for a while, unable to tell whether her eyes were closed. Just when it seemed she might fall asleep in this dark place, though, a familiar sound permeated the stillness of the world. It was gentle, deep and relatively melodious, and it flew smoothly and easily between pitches…

_Drossel _is _here?_

Some invisible person in front of her gently nudged her backwards, and she started, reaching out with her hands. Oddly, there was nobody there. Why did a person's presence insist to exist here whenever she thought of Drossel? It confused her greatly, and she didn't like it.

The humming was muffled, so Drossel must be in a different room. Slowly Vocifer's hands moved over the wall again, and she felt a familiarly uneven surface.

_It's the door again._

Cautiously, she moved her hand farther along it. Surely there must be something in this room. If her ears weren't deceiving her, Drossel was in that room, and he didn't seem bothered or impaired by anything. In fact, judging by his vocalization, he must be in a relatively good mood. That meant that there must not be anything particularly dangerous behind this door. Come to think of it, Drossel had visited it earlier – he had been about to follow Vocifer out of the hallway, but he had vanished before he made it to the mansion. Presumably he had entered whatever room was behind that door.

Was this one of the places Cornix would define as "locked?" Maybe. Tentatively, she moved the knob with one fingertip. It turned easily; clearly the room was not "locked." Still, it was concealed. Perhaps that would count.

Even so, she wondered what might be inside this room. She had come by so many times and yet she had no clue… maybe it was better that way.

Silence returned again. For whatever reason, Drossel's humming had faded into nothingness, and the black gripped Vocifer once more. Why had he gotten quiet all of a sudden? Surely nothing was wrong… the very faint tap of footsteps signaled that he was moving around, albeit rather slowly. Soon, even those stopped, and Vocifer had to feel her ears to make sure nothing was impairing her hearing. She started to doubt that Drossel had ever existed at all, or whether the door was still there. For all she knew, she could have imagined the whole thing.

Nervously, she ran her hands over the door again. With this close of an investigation, the door was clearly large enough to be formed of two separate ones; in fact, if it was just one single door, it was far too wide to be useful. She imagined that, if there was light in here, it would look rather like an entrance to a large closet.

Her eyes flicked downward to what she assumed was the floor. Speaking of light, there was a little bit highlighting the tiny space between the floor and the entrance to the room. The illumination was dim, but in contrast to such darkness it appeared to belong to a large lamp. What could be causing such a light?

She glanced back up to the door. Her mind couldn't decide what to do, but fortunately it didn't need to. Before she could react, the light magnified in her eyes, and there was a gentle creaking noise; the door was opening.

The light was relatively dim, so she didn't have to squint for that long. Illumination cast its red-golden shadow on the narrow, dark hallway, blocked out only by a single silhouette. Vocifer didn't have time to see what might be casting the shadow before something made hard contact with her face. An object at least her size had drifted out of the room and not hesitated to run into her as though it were another person on the street.

Startled at the pressure, Vocifer shook her head and glanced up.

It was Drossel.


	6. Chapter 5

Drossel took a tentative step backward with a stolid expression that only bordered on disbelief. Needless to say, Vocifer was more surprised. The impact had hurt, but more than anything she hadn't expected him to exit the room so quickly.

Now that they were face-to-face, she was at a loss for words. Drossel's mouth curled into a slight frown, though he may have only been thinking if it wasn't for the irritable glimmer in his eyes. "What are you doing?" he asked flatly.

"I was… wondering what you're doing in there," Vocifer stammered, glimpsing the darkened, shelf-filled room behind the butler. "You sounded contented, so I was just standing here thinking…"

"It's not of any importance," Drossel stated, with slightly more inflection this time. "Please leave."

"Does it have to do with your puppets, though?" Vocifer lowered her gaze; she couldn't meet his blazing violet eyes. "I mean, you're so good at making them … that—"

Drossel had turned around and started back into the room when he interrupted her without looking back. "_It's not of any importance,_" he repeated even more harshly, his hands manipulating something in front of him. "Please leave."

He sounded like a broken record, but now that the door was open and there was nothing strange in the room, Vocifer wanted to know what was inside. "I like this room, though," she insisted. "I'd only like to—"

For the first time since Vocifer had arrived here, Drossel raised his voice considerably and whirled around, swinging a hand in an exaggerated dismissive motion. "I said _leave!"_

The truculence of his tone made Vocifer flinch away, but her eyes were first caught on him, and then they slid to his left hand. Up until this point, he had always worn white gloves in any situation, and Vocifer thought that it was just to make him look sophisticated. But now that the real reason was facing her, she couldn't tear her gaze from his hand. She wasn't the smartest here (in fact, she would hazard a guess and say she was the least knowledgeable in the mansion), but it was obvious that any normal person would have a… normal hand, for lack of a better description. Drossel was different, though – extending from the sleeve of his garish blue coat was a hand that could belong to nothing but a puppet with its rounded joints and spindly (albeit realistically proportioned, she told herself) fingers.

Drossel appeared furious for only another instant before he evidently had realized his mistake. Now he brought his arm down slowly, as though considering his options.

Vocifer finally got her breath back. Even so, her speaking wasn't all that coherent, and she couldn't form the sentence right. "A puppet… _yourself?_"

Drossel took three urgent steps forward and suddenly took full advantage of the few inches' height difference between him and Vocifer. The eerie light from the shelved room cast a deep shadow in the already blackened hallway, but even so his purple eyes seemed to have a fire of their own. Vocifer still hadn't completely registered in her brain that Drossel was inhuman, but even so it was clear that he was feeling some deep form of anger.

"Why didn't you leave when I told you?" Drossel snapped, his gaze boring down on Vocifer.

She shrank against the wall, trying to keep her eyes somewhere near the floor. "I didn't think… it would matter," she stuttered, letting her vision ajust back to the darkness. Her mind worked swiftly, focused on the instinct for flight rather than fight. The only problem was that she had nowhere to flee to.

"I told you it was of no importance!" Drossel said sharply, his temper clearly not about to abate anytime soon.

"Why does that matter?" Vocifer shot back. She was regaining some of her confidence and now she was standing up relatively straight. "You have so much talent! Who cares if you're a puppet if you can create the sort of things you do? It doesn't matter to me!"

"I know I must be human," Drossel responded, his voice suddenly quieter, as though he had rehearsed the same thing over and over to different people. The fury in his eyes still hadn't quenched.

"You're a puppet," Vocifer asserted, losing some of her aggressive tone herself. She wasn't exactly sure what she had to be angry about any more. At least it was helping her mind run more smoothly. She tried to get herself at least to Drossel's eye level, clutching his wooden, crafted hand in her own and raising it as though he could actually feel what she was doing with it. "You're also a butler and an artist. You do so many things, it doesn't matter whether you're human or not!"

He pulled his hand out of her grasp, still looking very frustrated with her. Even so, he said nothing in response.

"Besides, you're so realistic anyway that you may as well be a human anyway." Vocifer could feel her voice relaxing, and she sighed. "I don't care at all if you _are_ a living puppet of some sort. I like you how you are."

_Shove._ The invisible being that always tormented her in this hall gave her a knock straight to her chest, but she stood her ground. She never did believe in ghosts, and highly doubted that there really was one here – otherwise it might follow her around.

She glanced upward at Drossel. The anger in his violet eyes had faded, and now he retained the same indifferent look as before. At least now she knew why he was so good at looking calm – it was because he never felt much else. Of course, he had shown that fury just now, and the incident with the chicken seemed to have perturbed him quite a bit. Maybe him being a doll wasn't the deepest secret; was there something else hidden even below that?

For now, she shrugged off the thought. Just this one discovery was enough for now. She was tired – not only was it late, but it was cold outside, and her mind was weary of a lot of things.

"Don't say a word of this to anyone," Drossel muttered, stepping backwards into the doorway. He looked as though he would say something else, but a voice from farther up the hall interrupted him.

"Vocifer! Are you still here?" Undoubtedly, it was Tristis calling down.

"Oh, I forgot!" Vocifer suddenly remembered that she and Drossel weren't the only people in the house. "I have somewhere I need to go." She paused, exhaling deepy. The presence here was keeping her feet rooted to where they were, and she couldn't go to meet Tristis at the other end of the hall. "I promise I won't tell Tristis. You can just… do what you like until you feel like coming out again."

"Vocifer!" The voice echoed down again, and now there were dull footsteps sounding, albeit slowly. Tristis was coming.

Drossel had already started backing into the room when Vocifer realized that she had to leave _now._

"All right, I'll see you later." The presence in the hallway had loosened its grip on her ankles, and now she could move at least a little. But now there was a different presence, too; something that was actually inside her was telling her not to move just yet. It was drawing her forwards like a magnet, and the opposite pole was in that room somewhere…

Unwittingly she took one quick step forward to follow this inner magnet. Her forehead pressed against Drossel's chest, hard, lifeless and cold, and she could feel herself trying to shove Drossel aside to follow this magnet while focusing on her surroundings, especially the butler in front of her –

Then she remembered that Tristis was coming, and backed away hurriedly, her face heating up for whatever strange reason. "I'm sorry, I have to go now. I'll see you later, Drossel."

Casually, Drossel nodded slowly, backing into the room and closing the huge door, his mechanical hand working as easily as gracefully as that of any human puppeteer.

Vocifer stepped backwards into the dark shop. What had just gone on? It was so strange how there always seemed to be some outer force controlling her in that hallway… this time seemed a little bit different, though. Why had she been at such a loss for words? And she was acting so strange. Maybe there was something weird in the air. No, that seemed unlikely.

A very real force on her shoulders snapped her out of her reverie. Only now was she aware that Tristis was a few inches in front of her, shoving her into an open space (presumably so that Tristis could fit into the room as well). How come she hadn't noticed? Maybe she needed more sleep.

Tristis looked both scolding and confused at the same time. "Why're you staying down here, Vocifer? The tea's all ready in the living room."

Vocifer took a minute to think before she answered. "Sorry, I was delayed. Just a little…" She trailed off – she couldn't think of a way to explain anything without sitting here for the whole night.

"A little what?" Tristis's expression instantly transitioned to curiosity. "Did the tunnel close out on you? Not like it ever does that."

"No, it's nothing important." Vocifer felt her eyes fall to the floor, but she pulled them back up immediately. Tristis wasn't scary in any way. "Let's go have the tea… or something."

She slunk back up the hallway behind her friend, keeping her hands away from the walls. She knew this passage well enough by now that she could probably navigate it with her eyes closed… as though that would make much of a difference with the consistent darkness anyway. It was strange that she knew this place so well, and that at the same time she could barely remember what her old home looked like anymore. If only somebody could find her.

The light from the rest of the mansion, albeit dim, reached her eyes once more, and she followed Tristis halfheartedly into the room with the fireplace. At the moment, she was feeling quite tired. She managed to wait until the tea was finished before moving upstairs and flopping onto the bed, though.

It was soft and fluffy, and she was exhausted, but it took her a while to fall asleep. It could have been the tea, though that was somewhat unlikely. Her mind kept wandering back to the incident in the hallway with Drossel. She really would never guess that he may actually have been just a puppet… he seemed so undoubtfully alive. Nothing that was completely a puppet could have that sort of eyes, could it?

Vocifer adjusted herself farther into the plushy surroundings. She may have just imagined it, but she remembered Drossel's physical self being discernably warmer from the slightly chilly air of the dark passageway. Puppets didn't have body heat, did they?

She was thinking too much, and she was getting too tired. She let her mind settle on the color black and only the sound of her breathing, eventually sliding into the nothingness of slumber.

Apparently, her sleep was dreamless, because Vocifer was jerked out of her sleep sometime the next morning by what sounded like someone banging on her door. A voice from outside the room revealed that this was Tristis.

"Vocifer! Vocifer, come quickly! This is important!"

She raised her head slowly. Judging by how light it was outside, it must be relatively early (although it was difficult to tell when the sun took so long to rise in the wintertime). What could Tristis want to wake her up for? Still sluggish, she slid out of the bed and towards the door, where she pulled the handle away to see an unusually energetic-looking Tristis. And that was saying something – she may have been bouncy, but Tristis never jumped up this high so many times a second.

"What is it?" Vocifer mumbled, still half-asleep.

Tristis looked as though she took a moment to decide what to say, despite how fast her feet were working. "There's someone at the door who's looking for you," she blurted, and proceeded to bounce back down the hallway like a rabbit.

"What?" Vocifer breathed, her mind suddenly switching itself on. Had someone come for her at last? Now she could go home, and she could forget this whole mansion incident ever happened! She had been waiting for this day for a long time now…

She shot down the hallway towards the door so fast that she almost beat Tristis there. The two reached the entrance at about the same time, though, where a man looking something akin to a police officer was standing.

Vocifer's feet stopped moving at the threshold when she noticed that Drossel was standing inside the door as well, a little bit off to the side. In her brief excitement, she had forgotten about him, and now his presence made her halt short. She hadn't considered the fact that if she did continue on her belated trip to her cousin's house, she would have to leave him behind. She hadn't expected that thought to make her feel so cloudy and distant, either.

"Vocifer Manchester?" queried the man at the door, with a glance in her direction.

She nodded quickly, peering around the man to see whether anyone was outside. Only the snow-covered road sat there, with nobody familiar on it. For a moment Vocifer wondered why.

She glanced back at the policeman-type person. "Yes, that's me. Is it time for me to go back home?"

The policeman-type person nodded slowly, with a dignified air about him. "It looks like our search is over. Once we've notified your relatives, they should be here shortly. In the matter of a half hour or so, I would guess, judging by their distance."

At the mention of her cousins, Vocifer broke into a wide smile. "Thank you, sir!"

Without a further word, the man turned and simultaneously drew the door closed, doubtless heading out to find her cousins and deliver the news.

The air inside the house was warm once more. Vocifer quickly turned her head to the side, curious to see what Tristis would think of the situation. The dark-eyed girl was smiling a little, but she appeared neither ecstatic nor disappointed.

"So you're going back home now, right?" Tristis asked slowly, a calm glint in her eyes.

"That's right," Vocifer responded, "but I'll come back and visit soon if you want me to."

"That sounds like a plan," Tristis agreed, appearing somewhat more satisfied. "My parents and I would like that."

This reply made Vocifer smile a little, but it faded from her face as she rotated herself again to face Drossel. She could come back and visit soon – now that she thought of it, she would surely be back promptly. The thought of going back home and separating herself from the butler unexpectedly made something inside her ache. She hadn't connected this with going back home until now. In a short while, she would be back with the bubbly Nophis again, and she would have to readjust to not having everything handed to her by a talented butler.

Drossel was looking at her as he always did – calm and emotionless, but with a very alive glint in his eyes. Vocifer didn't acknowledge this; by now, she was aware that his normal behavior was watching from the side until something needed to be done. At the moment, maybe she did want him to do something for her, though she wasn't sure what it might be yet.

For a short while, she looked up at him and his painted face, wondering what would be the best way to say goodbye to him until she could visit again. Vocifer had really never had to say goodbye to anybody, so she had no clue how she might go about doing it. Before she thought too deepy, she reminded herself that she would be seeing Drossel again at some point; it might just be a while. That lightened the weight inside her a little, although she could still vaguely feel it.

"I suppose I'll see you later, then," she said slowly, still not entirely sure how she wanted to word everything. Carefully, she allowed one of her hands to take Drossel's, concluding that, as strange as it may seem, she could convey more of what she wanted to say through physical contact rather than phrases. To her, it was a very odd thing to think that anything other than words could convey a point, but then she must be an odd person.

She was suddenly very aware of herself and her immediate surroundings. Without too much focus, she could still feel the mechanical joints of Drossel's hand, concealed beneath the ordinary white glove. She had already promised that she would not speak a word of it to anyone else, and she intended to keep that promise. It wasn't as though she had the desire to talk right now, anyway.

And so in a surprisingly short while she did notice that Nophis was waving at her from outside, farther down towards the road. Pulling her gloves onto her hands, Vocifer opened the large door, giving a final goodbye to Tristis. Her eyes lingered on Drossel, but she reminded herself that she wouldn't be leaving him forever, and was able to move relatively confidently as she left the mansion, walking quickly in order to get to Nophis faster.

"Hi again!" Nophis greeted loudly, looking ecstatic. "Long time no see, Vocifer!"

"Hello, Nophis," Vocifer responded, unable to resist a smile. "It has been a while."

Nophis stepped backwards, towards a carriage that appeared to be a duplicate of the one Vocifer had fallen out of a while ago. "Are you excited to visit us cousins for the holidays?"

"Holidays?" Vocifer echoed. "I must have lost track of time… but now I remember. It's a good thing you reminded me – I would have forgotten."

"Let's not waste any more time out in the snow, then!" Nophis eagerly climbed onto the seat. Considerably more hesitant, Vocifer followed suit, being sure to close the door tightly behind her.

Fortunately, the ride to the house was calm and normal, with nothing out of the ordinary occuring. Even with the knowledge that the year would soon end, and with the end it brought a few celebrations, Vocifer was more anxious for what would happen afterwards. She couldn't help but feel that she was leaving something very important behind.


	7. Chapter 6

"Just don't stay outside by yourself for more than a moment!"

"I won't!"

Vocifer turned her head back forwards. Nophis was always worrying that she was going to do something reckless and get herself killed. Surely she could survive for two nights in a city she had already visited? Her cousin fretted over things too much.

For the first time in a while, Vocifer approached the humongous door of the mansion. She hadn't memorized the exact date she had left here before the year was over, but now that she was back she already felt as though she had been gone for an unimaginably long time. Back at her cousins' house, it didn't seem nearly this long.

Vocifer danced up to the door and paused in front of it. The pathway was still icy, though there hadn't been snow for a few days. Winter tended to do that a lot. _If I stand here too long, I'll freeze._

With very little hesitation, Vocifer raised a hand to knock on the gigantic door. At first, nothing happened, and she was worried that she would have to go around the back way. Her worries proved wrong, though, as the door slowly creaked inward, and the unfamiliar shadow of a man slunk back into the darkness of the mansion. There were no lights on. In that sense, Vocifer was thankful for the graying sunlight outside, but there was something more disturbing about the mansion. Apart from whoever had opened the door, it was perfectly silent, and there was no movement anywhere.

She stepped inside, reluctantly closing the door. "Tristis?" she called. "Are you here?"

No answer, apart from the vague, hesitant echo.

"Tristis?"

Again, no answer.

She allowed her feet to start moving as her eyes scanned the darkened walls. "Tristis!"

At this point she gave up calling for anybody and let her mind work. _Surely Drossel has to be here somewhere, right? Why isn't there anyone here?_

She paused briefly, and then continued towards the door behind the stairs. _They're not gone. He's probably just in the puppet shop, like always… but where's Tristis? If they were going on vacation or something, they would tell me before I got here…_

Her pace quickened and she pulled open the door into the dark hallway. This routine seemed so familiar to her, and she remembered doing this so many times back when she was still lost. She couldn't explain her attraction to the puppet shop well, although she had a shadow of an idea forming in her mind that might blossom into the truth later.

She didn't bother to slow down much as she inched down the hallway. She wasn't sure whether her footsteps being loud was a good thing or not – if there was someone here, it might interrupt them, but at the same time she didn't want to startle anybody. Just to be carefull, she restrained her feet a moment before she could see the light of the puppet shop.

_Light. Someone is what if it's not Drossel? What will I do?_

After a moment's hesitation, Vocifer stepped into the room. At first, she didn't see anything, and relaxed herself, but then –

"Vocifer? Why are you here?"

A familiar, staccato voice came from her left, and when she looked her eyes showed her the colorful garb of the family butler.

"Drossel, you're here," she breathed, suffocated in her own relief. Before she could keep track of what she was doing, her arms were around his torso, and she could feel the hint of his warmth…

"Let go of me."

Vocifer snatched her senses and took a few steps backward. She lingered a moment to allow her thoughts to fall back into place. _You idiot, he's a puppet. He doesn't know what that means. Think, Vocifer!_

"What are you doing here?" Drossel asked slowly. Vocifer half-expected him to look frustrated with her, but, as always, his face showed nothing but calm.

She cleared her mind again for a moment before replying. "I was coming back to visit Tristis and the others, but they're not here, so I came to find you… where is Tristis?"

Drossel blinked thoughtfully. "She left to find her parents… and she never came back."

_Never came back?_ Vocifer echoed inwardly, trying to register this in her mind. Her thoughts worked through themselves for a minute. Did that mean she wouldn't see Tristis again? How long had this place been practically empty?

"Drossel, you haven't been alone here since I left, have you?"

He nodded slowly, and Vocifer was sure she caught a glint of sadness in his violet eyes. "It's been lonely. Only the dolls kept me –"

Suddenly Drossel appeared to realize something. Either that, or he heard something Vocifer didn't, because his head snapped towards the door and his expression hardened.

Vocifer looked at him unwittingly. Perhaps she was just paying more attention than she had a while back, but… was Drossel being more emotional?

"What's wrong?" she asked quietly, her eyes slowly wandering down to the same table that had always been in the middle of the room. Perched on it was the same box from a while back, with the same familiar blue marking. Again, Vocifer knew she had seen it before. She pondered it briefly, and then the answer came to her.

"Intruders." He looked back at Vocifer, and she returned his glance. Sure enough, she glimpsed the blue marking, just beneath his right eye.

Her gaze drifted for a few moments. _His face is so perfect…_

Drossel moved towards her, and her mind switched back to the physical world. "What? What do you mean, intruders?"

"Come this way." He stepped past her, evidently determined to leave this room. He appeared as though he had some sort of plan forming, although Vocifer couldn't guess what it might be. She followed him quickly back into the dark passageway.

He shoved open the door into the strange room Vocifer had only seen once before, though this time he clearly wasn't worried about concealing anything. Vocifer paused in the doorway, her eyes wandering the strange, dark room. It looked as if it was designed to be underground, but she was sure that she was breathing the sky's air right now…

Drossel suddenly stopped and turned around, speaking urgently once more. "No. This way."

"Huh?" Vocifer hesitated and followed, pulling the large door closed behind her.

She tailed him out to the main part of the mansion, still as empty as ever. At first she thought that he was leading her to the bedroom she had stayed in when she first came here, but he turned at a different point. There was another small door here on the second level, identical to the one below that led to the puppet shop. Where did this one open to? _Phyiscally, it would be somewhere above the other room we were just in…_

Drossel tugged the door open and looked at her purposefully. Vocifer stared back for a moment, and then hurried beyond the threshold when Drossel did so first.

As the room before her opened up, she glanced down and to her right. From the looks of this place, it was the strange room from before, although the duo was standing on a sort of upper level. The floor of the room waited far below. From what Vocifer could see, there was no wall or anything protecting her from falling off this upper ledge onto the floor below. Just the thought of it made her bend her knees and almost touch her fingers to the ledge to avoid falling off.

Drossel glanced backwards over his shoulder without relaxing. "Stand up," he told her, and to her surprise he offered a gloved hand for assistance. After a moment of stabilizing herself, Vocifer grasped it tightly. Clearly he had been up here before – otherwise he wouldn't be so confident.

He led her to a corner of the upper ledge so that she could see the large door on the left side of the room. She did not allow her fingers to open, not even when Drossel stopped moving and knelt down, apparently studying either the door or a particular section of the floor. Vocifer followed his gaze, but then drew her eyes away to a wall instead. Just the thought of putting one foot over the edge frightened her, and she followed Drossel to the edge, careful to inch back somewhat from the precipice. Thankfully there was ample space between here and the wall behind her. In response to this, she reluctantly let go of Drossel's hand, instead occupying herself with staying at least a decent third of a meter from the edge.

"Who are the intruders?" she queried quietly, her eyes drifting to Drossel.

He only returned a glance, and then his gaze went back to the room below. He never answered the question, for he was apparently waiting for something.

_He's not going to jump down, is he?_

A few minutes passed just about as slowly as an hour, and Drossel didn't move an inch. Vocifer watched the room intently, unable to keep her eyes in one place. Then a smaller door she hadn't noticed before swung reluctantly open, admitting three people she couldn't quite see in the light of a small lamp. One was tall and dressed entirely in black and white; the next was shorter and very hard to discern from his surroundings. The third was clad in red from head to toe, and that was all Vocifer could see from this distance.

_Those must be the intruders, then,_ she told herself. _But what are they here for? How did Drossel know they were coming? They don't look very extraordinary…_

The short one split off from the rest and headed towards the spot where Drossel was perched like a hawk. At first Vocifer worried that the two of them had been spotted, but the short one was focused on something against the wall rather than what was above him.

Nervously, Vocifer peered over the edge, and noticed a strangely colorful object that somewhat resembled a girl in a frilly dress. It was difficult to see exactly what it was from this distance in the dark, though.

She glanced sideways at Drossel, whispering quietly, "What is that?"

He evidently had no trouble keeping his volume down in his reply. "It's one of my puppets." As if in response, he lifted one hand slightly, and Vocifer noticed glinting strings wrapped around his fingers.

_Those must be puppet strings,_ she told herself. Her eyes flicked back down to the three intruders, and then back upwards to Drossel. "What are you going to do?"

"Lure them in." Slowly he rose to his feet. Vocifer could just imagine him saying something along the lines of _let the games begin._

_But what does he want with them? Wouldn't he try to lure them _out?

Vocifer stayed close to the ground, waiting as Drossel paused for around ten seconds. Then he gave the strings a sudden jerk, and whatever they were connected to evidently moved; the three below now cast their eyes somewhat more upward. Vocifer shrank back, but they still seemed oblivious to her presence, and she relaxed gradually.

_What is he doing?_ she asked herself, her eyes flicking back to Drossel. _He is a little bit strange, but… that's all right. I'm sure he has a reason for what he's doing with this three._

Drossel raised his voice, evidently focused on the intruders. "That is strange… why does she move against her will?"

_Is he taunting them with that puppet?_ Vocifer concluded that Drossel must have had an idea of what he was doing for a while. He may have been a puppet himself, but that, in addition to many other things she had noticed, made him seem irrefutably human.

He continued to manipulate a rather chaotic scene that went on below, consisting of the three intruders dancing around the room attempting to evade the slices of a large, sharp thing that the frilly puppet was clutching. It looked strangely comedic, and yet disturbingly horrifying.

And was the frilly puppet screeching? Making noise? _Is it alive like he is?_

Vocifer stared at Drossel again. Once more, his face had regained its stolid expression, and he appeared to have no reaction to what was occuring in the room beneath him (even though he was running the whole thing in the first place – which was strange in itself, since butlers usually weren't the ones running things). Another live puppet? What did that mean?

"Drossel?" she murmured. "Did you make that… out of a real person?"

He only glanced at her briefly, and then continued watching his chaos. Even so, his answer was clearly a yes. This made Vocifer feel an odd frustration with him, and her mind worked furiously to determine how to react. With nobody to keep him company in a small puppet shop, did Drossel really resort to creating things that shouldn't exist? Could he really have found a random little girl out of whom to make… a puppet?

_That must be why the intruders are here,_ Vocifer realized, studying the now somewhat abated havoc beneath her.

She then gazed up at him again, gradually rising to her feet. "You shouldn't do that," she said slowly. "That means you caused this, didn't you?"

His eyes flicked towards her, and he let the string fall from his hand (the scene below had completely calmed down now). Even though the lively fire had returned to his eyes, he didn't respond.

"You knew I was coming back!" Vocifer seethed. "You could have—"

A voice from below interrupted her mid-sentence. "Up there!"

Her head snapped to the room beneath her. Now all three of the intruders were staring at her and Drossel. Instantly she realized why; in her irritation, she had forgotten to keep her voice down, and had revealed their location.

Vocifer's heart sank. Helplessly, she looked back to Drossel, who was glaring at her accusingly. "You blew it," he whispered sharply.

"I… I didn't mean to," Vocifer stammered, her eyes falling to the floor. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

"You're troublesome," the voice from below interceded again. Vocifer looked down; it belonged to the tall one in black. Vocifer looked down; apparently he was referring to Drossel, not her. Vocifer said nothing in response.

At least Drossel wasn't glaring at her anymore. He was peering intently at the tall one wearing black.

"Here, take this," offered the tall one wearing black. Vocifer still couldn't see clearly from here, but he had picked up the big sharp thing, and –

Wait.

_No, he can't!_

Her eyes flew to the side. Drossel had stepped back, but nothing more.

From there, everything took place in a split second – at least, that was how Vocifer perceived it. She knew what would happen; the one in black was going to try to hurt them with the sharp thing. In her mind lingered a terrible thought – she knew who he was aiming for.

But she couldn't find her voice. She was too frightened. She could only try to dodge away from the dangerous sharp thing, try not to let herself get hurt. That was the moment she realized she was doing the wrong thing, but the next thing she knew the moment had already passed. Nothing she could do now.

When she looked up again, the three intruders had grouped to one side of the room, worrying about their own puppet. The sharp thing was nowhere to be seen – probably somewhere on the floor below.

Then Vocifer remembered why she really had been so worried. She didn't want to believe that any of this was happening, but this was real… and that was the problem with it.

She turned her head quickly, and her worst fear came true: Drossel was collapsed on the floor (of the ledge, fortunately), and there was a long gash splitting one side of his face where the sharp thing had connected, barely missing his eye. Of course, there was no blood because Drossel didn't have any,but to Vocifer it was still an equally horrifying sight. All of the strength evaporated out of her limbs, and she fell forward next to him, barely supporting herself on her knees. His violet eyes were staring, lifeless, as though he had been a puppet the entire time.

"Drossel, no," she breathed, barely aware of the tears on her own face. "You can't… please don't leave."

She felt as though she would choke on her own existence. She sought comfort, but when she tried, she realized that her most important source of comfort was paralyzed in front of her.

_The last thing I did was yell at him…_

"Oh, Drossel, please don't die…"

She wasn't sure why she was speaking out loud. Perhaps it was the only thing she could really do now, until something happened to lift her out of this nightmare. Now that she was forced into this bad dream, all she had wanted to do was to be close to him, to feel what little warmth he had…

She leaned in closer, until she could sense his face just beneath her own, trying to scrape out what little warmth she still could from his fading presence.

"Drossel, please stay… you're too talented to leave… and I need you…"

She caught her breath quickly, and went on: "Drossel… I love you."

She pressed his face into her own and kissed him – she didn't care whether he was made of wood or whatever it was; she just wanted her poor heart to stop breaking apart.

What seemed like an hour passed, and she couldn't suppress her pain even by that touch. Reluctantly, she finally drew away. If that was hopeless, then perhaps nothing could stop her tears from flowing. For a last goodbye, she wrapped her arms around him one more time, clutching him as close as possible. The only problem was that she wasn't sure she would ever want to let go.

She was startled out of her breath when she thought she felt Drossel move.

_No, that's impossible._ Despite her own thoughts, she loosened her grip a little. A few seconds past, and nothing happened. Indeed, it was impossible. She was sure she had witnessed Drossel receive a terrible blow to the head with her own eyes.

Just as that sentence was finished running through her mind, Drossel moved again. This time she was sure that he wasn't dead anymore. _But… how can that be?_

Vocifer straightened herself, hesitantly returning her arms to her sides. For sure, Drossel had moved – he was kneeling on his own, and before her own eyes he raised one hand to his head. Evidently he was aching there…

"Drossel … you're alive?" She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or skeptical.

_Wait. That's not right. _Drossel couldn't physically feel pain. He was a puppet, wasn't he?

Once more, she leaned closer to his face. In reaction, he lowered his hand, and looked at her strangely. "Vocifer, what is it?"

For a moment she stopped breathing. _There's something different about his voice._ It was difficult to think right now, and it was difficult to see in the dim light, but an odd possibility entered her mind. Why would Drossel speak differently like that? He had always sounded hesitant and forced… something about his tone was considerably more relaxed. Considerably more…

_Natural._

Her mind paused for a moment, attempting to calculate whether this whole thing was real.

_That's not possible… what's going on?_

It may have been a crazy idea, but it was the only explanation she could think of. Drossel watched her intently as she lifted her own hand, gently caressing his face with her fingertips.

As before, her breath caught in her throat.

Of course, Drossel quickly pulled away, but that one touch had been enough…

_No, this isn't possible, but…_

More nimbly than she thought was possible, she seized one of his hands in her own, using her other to pull off the glove that was still there…

And Vocifer gasped. Though she had told herself it wouldn't happen even in her wildest dreams, it did. Here, in front of her, Drossel's hand was real, flesh and blood, and he looked just as baffled as she was. It still retained all the nimbleness and grace it had as a puppet hand, but it was real.

She let him go and lifted her eyes to his face again. She wasn't sure how this could be happening, but it was, and she definitely wasn't disappointed.

_But there's one more thing…_

Drossel didn't say anything, so she pressed herself to him again, except this time it was her head to his chest. Thankfully, he still didn't react – Vocifer focused herself, and –

At first, it was a light sense, and then as she wait it, she heard it closer. Never did she think she would be so relieved to hear such a thing. It was the most relaxing thing her ears had picked up in a while, and she actually sighed.

Somehow, Drossel had acquired a heart, and it was beating slow and strong, and it made Vocifer want to cry just thinking about it. But she had had enough of that lately, and so she settled with burying her face in his neck, holding him close once again. And for once, she felt him relax just a little at her touch.

Eventually, her own pulse calmed back down to what it had been before any of this happened, and she allowed herself to back away. Slowly Vocifer was able to rise to her feet, albeit shakily. Drossel quickly followed suit, as easily as he ever had, and swept his fallen hat back upon his head.

Finally, Vocifer's eyes drifted back down to the room below. Where had the intruders gone? Evidently they had left a long time ago. Vocifer had no idea how long she'd been in this room, but with all that had happened, it felt like hours. Oh, well – time didn't seem to matter so much anymore.

Then she recalled that, in this whole mansion, she and Drossel were the only two significant people. What would happen next? Nophis wasn't coming back to get her until the next day at the earliest.

She glanced at Drossel, who was brushing himself off nonchalantly. Well, she wasn't alone in this place. She always had a talented butler with her. Time to get started.

"Drossel," she said sharply, and the butler looked up hurriedly. She smiled; now his fiery violet eyes went with the rest of him: pure and alive. She continued, "My cousins aren't coming back for me until at least tomorrow. Until then, I'm going to need someone to look out for me. Can you be that someone, please?"

Drossel paused for a moment, clearly not expecting the request. But after he had time to register it, he simply allowed himself to genuinely smile, bowing low at the waist. "Yes, milady. I will."

"So then who's this?"

The outside light was warm and welcoming, even though it only barely penetrated the clouds. A soft and comforting fall of snow was descending upon the city. As expected, Nophis had returned to the mansion for Vocifer the next day, although she hadn't anticipated her cousin bringing an unfamiliar man with her.

Vocifer only smiled. "This is Drossel," she explained to Nophis. "He used to be this family's butler, but unfortunately they've all seemed to up and vanished. He can't just stay here alone."

Nophis looked concerned. "But we don't have… accomodations for a butler at our home. There's room in the carriage, of course, but… what are we going to do with him?"

Drossel didn't appear the slightest bit offended. He only glanced at Nophis, slightly confused, and then his eyes went back to Vocifer.

"I actually haven't thought about it much," Vocifer lamented truthfully, not letting her gaze fall to the ground. "But I might have a vague idea."

She looked up at Drossel, into his eyes. She couldn't make it work without his true acceptance, though. Over the last day, he had more than tolerated her; at one point, he had allowed her to bring him close for a moment. Then, a little later, to Vocifer's surprise, he had clutched her in his arms himself, although she couldn't tell what he was really thinking.

_Nophis wouldn't mind, would she? No, if she does, Nophis doesn't matter. We can be alone. _At this time, Vocifer was so perfectly at peace that she couldn't stop herself from standing up tall just to kiss Drossel one more time…

_That's right. All I need is to be close to him. Just to feel him here with me…_

She stood on her toes to whisper one thing into his ear, so quietly that she could only hear herself breathe it.

"Drossel… I love you."


End file.
